


BETWEEN DUSK AND DAWN

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-27
Updated: 1999-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 55,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Endings and beginnings. Jim and Blair have a long tough road in between.<br/><b>Archivist note</b>: This story has been split into three parts for easier loading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Due to length, this story has been split into three parts.

## Between Dusk and Dawn

By Jack Reuben Darcy

Author's homepage: <http://internetdump.com/users/angiet>

* * *

Between Dusk and Dawn - part one  
by Jack Reuben Darcy 

_Tuesday_

What are you thinking? Blair asked into the silence. 

Jim let his gaze sweep across the park, only lighting on the windswept trees basking in warm spring sun. There were a dozen things he could say; silly things, useless things. He could take his pick and still not say anything that mattered. Instead, he shifted on his seat at the picnic table and vaguely hoped Blair wouldn't press the issue. 

"Well?" 

"Well what?" Jim glanced back down to the bowl in front of him, keeping his mind deliberately blank. 

Blair kept his voice level, noncomittal. "What are you thinking?" 

Haphazardly, Jim chose a thought, virtually at random, That I cant believe you talked me into eating noodles. 

I didnt say a word. 

Not today, no. 

Blair was silent again, then when he spoke, his voice was soft and almost gentle  almost. In that case, what are you feeling? 

The question caught Jim off-guard; hed assumed the conversation wouldnt get so intense so quickly  if ever at all, ever again. It was against the rules - his rules. But then again, wasn't this quiet lunch in the park against the rules as well? And this had been his suggestion. But he was still unable to gather his thoughts properly so his only reaction was autonomic. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, his response along with it. Sad. 

He kept his eyes on a patch on the wooden table, deliberately allowing his Sentinel sight to examine the threads of the surface, the rough edges no normal eye could ever see. It was the only way he could keep his focus, concentrate enough to say nothing more than that single word  because more words would only ruin the tacit peace theyd arranged. So much time and effort to get this far. So much wasted time. Horrible time he would forget if he could; freeze dry and never look at it again. Weeks of misery so dark it seemed impossible that before the bad times, there had in fact, been good times. The shadow was more than capable of blotting out that month or so of pure sunshine. Blair had forced this peace upon them - and Jim had set down the rules. All to rebuild a friendship both secretly believed was beyond hope - and yet, they both continued to work at it, fraily, hesitantly, dangerously. But they had to try - and what they had now was so much better than last week - or the weeks before. Much better. But still Jim had to be careful, had to damp down his thoughts, go nowhere near what he really wanted to say, wanted to do. Another of his rules. Rules Blair had agreed to and now broke. Rules Jim didn't think of reminding Blair of. 

It was some moments before he risked a glance at Blair  and nearly fell off the seat with shock when he saw tears falling silently down that face, eyes wide and almost turquoise blue in the midday shade. Blair was staring not at him, exactly, but almost through him, as though he were trying to see a Jim from the past, rather than this one before him. But the look in those eyes stayed anything Jim might have said. Instead, his hand shaking a little, he reached out and touched Blairs, watched the focus slip and change until it caught up with the present. There was a split second when Blairs hand moved under his  and then the moment was gone, leaving behind only a trail of open tragedy Jim couldnt ignore. 

He took the dead applecore from Blairs other hand then collected his empty noodle bowl. Trying to give Blair a moment, Jim stood and took the refuse to the bin and dropped it inside. In the distance, he could hear children playing, guys in a game of touch football on the other side of the park. Again deliberately, he dialled up his hearing to focus on the heartbeat of the man seated behind him, a sound that was as familiar to him now as his own. It beat steadily, if a little hard, but Blair seemed to be gathering himself. So Jim turned and watched him unobserved for the first time. Blair now sat with his back to Jim, his elbows on the table, hands together. All Jim could see of his face were the long black curls, shoulders hunched slightly. 

Walking up to him, Jim reached out a hesitant hand and smoothed down one strand of that hair. Instantly, Blair leaned into the touch  and almost as quickly, stiffened and moved away. 

Please, Jim, dont. 

Jim didn't ask why. He already knew far more than he wanted to know. He dropped his hand and returned to his seat opposite Blair, not looking at him this time. Perhaps they should have kept to the rules and not spent any time alone together. This was exactly the reason why Jim had insisted on it - and yet, it had been him who had suggested the two of them have lunch in the park together. Why? Why had he done that? He'd not even thought of it in the month or so since Blair had agreed to come back to work. Why now? 

But answers eluded him and again the silence drew out, neither empty nor tense, nor anything in particular. It was a kind of non-space between sentences neither man was able to fill. Like an actor standing on stage, waiting for a cue thats going to come late; unable to do or say anything until that cue came. 

Eventually, Jim wrote a line of his own, nothing much, just a few words to empty the silence a little. You okay now? 

Sure, Blair gave a short laugh, brittle, harsh. Why not? 

Now Jim did look at him, and caught his breath at the look on Blairs face. Tears again, filling the eyes, but these were hot, the blue caught up in a tirade of anger and determination. The chin lifted, nostrils flared in what could have been fury except that Jim had never seen Blair really furious so had no basis for comparison. 

Except that he did know. This was his Guide and he did know. 

Jim swallowed. He concentrated on Blair wholly and completely, listening to the heart thudding against ribs, the short breaths, full and contained. 

Contained. 

That was exactly the right word to describe him in this moment. Contained. Blair Sandburg was containing himself in the face of Jims stupid question. And doing it very well at that. 

But who would have thought he was capable of it? That bundle of irrepressible energy which had filled his life for the last three years, facing up to endless challenges and threats with equanimity? Really, Blair Sandburg? Contained? Determined not to budge an inch? Not to give in? 

His Blair? 

And Jim stopped breathing altogether because hed seen something for the first time here, something hed never seen before and it horrified him so much he couldnt afford even the smallest sense of touch, the most minute taste. 

Hed done this. To Blair. 

This most generous, giving, open and gregarious of creatures was sitting across the table from him, eyes blaring fury and obsidian determination and allowing nothing of his feelings to come out, nothing left hanging where Jim could touch it, swat it, hurt it. Nothing. Blair had withdrawn into himself so far there was only that anger left. Blair would never let Jim see anything else because he couldnt trust Jim not to hurt it. 

Jim had done all this. 

Blair had given him so much in the first wild weeks they were together, four long months ago. Weeks now dulled by pain and regret. Weeks where his life had taken on a different colour and texture and so much of it had been wrapped up in what Blair had given of himself. In fact, Blair had done little more than give to Jim since that first day in the hospital three years ago. But that was his nature, the kind of man he was. To Blair, giving was as easy as breathing  sometimes, even easier than that. He lived it, believed it, wanted it. 

And Jim had done something to him to end all that. Blair wasnt giving anything now  and worse, he was protecting himself so Jim couldnt take anything either, which was his habit, his nature. 

So what was it that he saw in those eyes, that fury that sent such a warm glow right through the pit of his stomach? 

Could it be the determination? So solid, so unbreakable? Was that what was taking his breath away? Filling his head and making him dizzy? 

Blair Sandburg wasnt going to budge an inch  so if Jim was going to win him back, he would have to make that all-important first move 

? 

Win him back? 

Swiftly, Jim glanced away, carving off time to have his own mini-crisis. No, it was okay. No threat of a zone. Nope, he was still breathing and it was all okay. Yep. Fine. 

Win him back? 

Yeah, have to. 

Sure? 

Yeah. 

How? 

No idea. Dunno why yet. Dont ask. 

Hey, Chief? 

What? 

Jim swallowed, Lets walk. 

Why? 

Cause sitting on this wooden seat is going to get my arse full of splinters. 

He stood and turned for the path, not giving Blair a chance to make a wisecrack  nor even smile. Jim was sure  but he still needed time to think, to work it out, exactly how what. Christ, what was he doing! Hadnt they ended it? Thoroughly and completely? Almost three months together, the last month of that driving them both into hell and back? Wasn't it all supposed to be finished? God, it had been impossible then, to make it work. Hadn't there already been enough heartache, enough hurt, enough misery to last them both a lifetime? What the hell was he thinking? God, he must be mad 

No, not mad  just sure. There was a whole world of difference. 

He wanted Blair back. 

Not just back part-time, at work, to help out, no. He wanted Blair back in his life, in the loft, in his bed and in his heart. 

Worse still - that's what he'd always wanted - though why it had taken him until now to see it was another matter. 

The silence opened up between them again as they wandered through the park on the way back to the station. Before crossing the road, Jim came to a kind of decision, a kind of plan but knowing how to open his mouth and put it into words was really not working for him. 

In the end, he didnt need to be the first one to speak; Blair saved him that much. Im not going back. 

What? Jim frowned, not understanding. 

To the station. Im not going back to work. 

Jim came to a halt, scrambling every ounce of control he had together to quell the streak of panic that shot from his gut to his eyeballs. Why not? 

Blair shrugged, Got some stuff to do at the U, a lecture to prepare and some papers to grade. Since nothing much is happening here I thought I might spend the afternoon Blairs voice dropped off as he stared at Jim openly, the anger returning, his eyes narrowing. You thought I meant oh, shit, Jim! How could you, man! I told you when we broke up, I wont let anything come between me and the Guide/Sentinel thing. Christ, I would have thought the last month would have proven my intentions to you! I dont believe this! 

Jim could have blustered  but didnt bother. After three years, there was no point in trying to convince Blair he couldnt read Jim like a book. They both knew it was true. Sorry. It was just a moment. Wont happen again. 

Yeah, sure. Blair dropped his head, hands on his hips and Jim could only stand there and wait for the mood to cool a little. 

Oops, nearly threw the whole thing right there and then. And now he would have to wait because an angry Blair would never agree to what Jim had to ask him and there was nothing else Jim could say that would put Blair into an amenable frame of mind. 

But eventually, Blair nodded and turned to cross the street with him. Jim waited until they were on the other corner, having to stop himself from actually reaching out and grabbing Blairs arm to make him halt. Blair was all ready to wave a goodbye, murmur words about seeing him at the station tomorrow  but Jim had to stop him now, today, this minute because if he didnt do this now he knew as surely as the sun was shining through Blairs dusky curls, that he would never find the courage again. 

Chief? 

Yeah? 

Blair was hardly paying attention. Instead, he was frowning down the road, trying to pick the movement of traffic in order to dart across to where his car was parked. 

Would you have dinner with me? 

What? Another frown, deeper, distracted. 

Jim raised his voice a little, Would you have dinner with me? Tonight? 

Like water into a dry sponge, the words sank into Blair from the bottom up, leaving his head the last thing to turn slowly to face Jim. 

Nothing. Not the slightest lift of an eyebrow, the merest quirk of a lip. Nothing. Not even an accelerated heartbeat. Blair was so contained now as to be almost invisible to Jim's heightened senses. 

Good God, what had he done? 

But Blair hadnt answered, one way or the other. Nor had he laughed in scorn and walked off. No. Then again, Jim couldnt really tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Best not to make a decision either way when the only thing he had to go on was a stony-faced Blair surrounded by noisy, smelly traffic, holding Jims life in one careless hand, his own in the other. 

Blair stepped away from the curb and faced Jim squarely. You want me to have dinner with you? Tonight? 

Thats right. 

You want to discuss Sentinel stuff? 

Jim began to roll his eyes  but managed to stop himself before Blair could hit him. No, Sandburg, this has nothing at all to do with that. 

Oh? Still implacable, ungiving, immobile. So perfectly, terribly contained. Jim wanted to pick him up, turn him upside down and shake him until something of the real Blair Sandburg could fall out onto the pavement and then Jim would know that he hadnt been abducted by aliens and replaced with this motorised, shop-front dummy. 

Yeah, Jim kept his voice level, but didnt take his eyes from his guide. Will you? 

Well, Blair glanced away momentarily, but soon captured Jims gaze once more, his blue eyes flinty hard. That depends. 

On what? 

On whether its just dinner  or a date. 

And just like that, Blair pushed Jim out onto the edge of the knife. Hastily, he glanced down to either side of the razor-sharp blade and took a good look at how a fall either way would bring reckless destruction to both their lives. The thing he was standing on was a decision and, as though hed sent every sense he had through that sharp steel, he knew every ounce of what that decision was, what it meant and what it didnt mean. 

Should he tell the truth? Or should he lie? 

Should he tell Blair the safe answer  but then who was to say what Blair thought was safe any more and hed never seemed to mind danger too much when they were working in the line of fire and oh god, I want to kiss him right here and now, on the street, in front of the station and its all I can do to keep my hands to my sides and god, what am I going to say? 

The truth, Jimbo. 

Are you sure? 

This is Blair. What else should you ever give him but the truth? Plain and simple. Thats the only thing hell ever respond to. Go ahead, try it. 

Jim had to swallow to loosen his throat. A date. I want us to go on a date. Will you have dinner with me tonight? 

The containment sat around the younger man like the shield of armour it was  but then, oddly, a quirky smile turned up one corner of his mouth, as though twelve or so facial muscles had broken solidarity with the others and were now being ostracised. As they were brought back into the fold, the smile vanished and Blair favoured him with one single nod. Okay. Pick me up? 

At seven? Jim was almost breathless as he added, Formal. 

Formal? Got him a raised eyebrow, another tiny chink revealed. 

Yeah. 

Blair took another step towards the curb, shooting a glance at the traffic. He was timing his exit carefully. Formal. I guess that means I have to tie my hair back. 

No no no no! Shit, I didnt mean that! Shit, Jimbo change your mind. Buy the man a damned pizza! 

But no such words came out of him, Sure, if you like. 

And that was probably the best thing he could have said because the look Blair shot him was absolutely amazing, piercing, striking every ounce of fear both out and into Jim at the same time. He was left at the end feeling as drained as a soggy dishrag. 

See you at seven then. Blair lifted a hand and ducked across the road, slipping between cars and trucks in a manner that both delighted and scared Jim at the same time. But he could no more move and shift into blessed protector mode than he could sprout wings and fly. 

Blair was going out with him. Tonight. He was going to dinner with Blair. A date. With Blair. Tonight. 

And he still had six hours to wait. 

* * *

The Volvo started first time for once and Blair pulled into the traffic without so much as a glance at Jim in the mirror. He couldn't stop his fingers from gripping the wheel until his knuckles were white - but the rest of him remained in tact. Couldn't even let go once he was around the corner because he knew his sentinel so well he knew Jim would track him down the road and across town to make sure he got to Rainier in one piece. So Blair kept it together, keeping his mind in neutral, choosing streets he was familiar with until he drew into the car park outside his office building. Collecting his backpack from the trunk, he wandered inside, up the stairs and into the poky little room he was supposed to do so much earth-shattering work in. He glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes since he'd left Jim standing on the side of the road outside the station. He waited until it crossed over to thirty minutes and then slowly released his reaction. 

Idly, he watched his hands begin to shake. He felt suddenly thirsty but spilled water as he poured it from the bottle on his desk. Attempts to clear it up only saw him knock a pile of papers off and onto the floor. He knelt down to pick them up and knocked his shin on the filing cabinet. He let out a howl of pain then stuffed his hand into his mouth. 

Only then did he notice how hard his heart was beating, how fast, how fucking furious. 

God. Oh, god almighty. God, any god listening, please pleasepleaseplease don't let him change his mind. No phone call in an hour to tell him it had been a mistake. No waiting till half past eight before calling Blair and saying he had to work. 

He had no way of telling if any of the deities so called had heard his silent prayer, but his body had given up trying to cover the reaction he'd buried so deep inside him. Forgetting the papers, he sank to the floor, huddled inside himself and kept his last self control focused on silencing the sobs which racked his body, pounded his head. 

How in hell had he done it? Keeping his heart beating steady and level, stopping his hands from trembling. How had he managed to crush everything he was to the point where Jim had absolutely no idea of how he felt? Where had he learned such self control from? 

Who else, but Jim? 

In this, as in many other things, Blair was the student, Jim the master. Oh, he'd watched Jim all through that harsh lunch, their first moments alone together in a month. Watched him eat his noodles, watched him watching Blair, knowing he saw the tears Blair hated so much. The tears which had begun falling the moment Blair had seen the unguarded look of complete despair on Jim's face - right before he'd admitted to feeling only sad. 

Sad? 

Sad? 

If Blair had been completely illiterate he would have been able to read the words flashed in clear letters across Jim's face - and the amazing thing was, Jim appeared to be utterly unaware that he had given so much away. 

And in that moment, he'd broken Blair's heart. 

All his resolve, all his determination to have nothing more to do with Jim was attacked in that one moment; dried up into one single point to stop him from reacting, from giving anything away. He had to concentrate on self-preservation and nothing else. Had to focus on all the promises he'd made to himself about keeping the friendship going on whatever level was necessary for them to continue working together while he was still here. All the vows about remaining oblivious to the physical presence of the man, of keeping his heart encased in lead, all the words he'd shouted to himself in the silence of his apartment, empty and alone. All the nights he'd spent trying not to remember how it had felt not to sleep alone, to feel alone, to be alone. Hours in the darkness, striving to rid himself of images of Jim touching him, kissing him, knowing him, moving inside him, giving of himself to Blair. 

But he'd not realised how much there was to forget. Not just the past four weeks of hell, but the almost three months before that. Not the bad parts, but the good parts, the bits that, for so long, had made the bad seem not so bad. 

With a groan, he got himself up off the floor. He gathered together the papers and stuck them back on his desk, angry with himself, furious for being so weak, so vulnerable. 

Jim had asked him out. On a date. Why? 

And he'd said yes. Again, why? 

They'd never been on a date before. Not even in the beginning. No, they'd basically just hopped into bed, had a great time, and built everything else up from there. Only it had all fallen down, hadn't it? 

So what did Jim want? A repeat of the same? A quick fuck with a guy he knew was a good lay? A few hours forgetting everything they'd been to each other, all the horrible things they'd said and done to each other since? 

No. Jim wasn't so cold and shallow. At least, he'd never been before. Now? 

Well, he wasn't going to waste the afternoon wondering about it. He had work to do and he was damned sure not going to let Jim Ellison ruin his entire life. He had five hours to get ready. Five hours in which to school himself once again against reacting in any physical way to Jim. He'd done it once and he could do it again. No matter what Jim said, he wasn't going to budge. He couldn't afford to. He had nothing left to give Jim but himself - and that was something he'd only just got back. It was now too precious to waste on anybody. 

No matter how much Blair might want that anybody. 

* * *

_Four months before_

The band launched into another pounding rhythm as Blair squeezed himself between the press of people at the bar. Carefully juggling three glasses against spillage, he manoeuvred between tables until he reached the one by the wall to find Simon and Jim huddled together. Simon appeared to be making a damned fine attempt to tell Jim a joke \- but with all this noise, Jim had his hearing dialled right down and seemed to be struggling. With a half-drunk grin, Blair deposited the glasses on the table and resumed his seat. 

"And they got in the car," he could hear Simon say, an edge of impatience audible over the noise, "but they had the wrong key!" 

"The wrong what?" Jim yelled, frowning. 

"The wrong key!" Simon bellowed. 

Jim frowned deeper, seemed to think hard for a moment, then gave up a half-hearted smile and nodded, as though he'd gotten the joke. 

Simon grunted, shook his head and threw Blair an exasperated grimace. He sipped his coke and almost spat it out. He'd nominated himself as the designated driver and seemed to be regretting it. 

"Hey, Chief!" 

Blair looked up at Jim to find a pleasantly fuzzy smile on the older man's face. "Yeah?" 

"Get Simon to tell you his joke. S'funny." 

"Man, you're drunk." Blair laughed, "How would you know?" 

"Hey, I've got a sense of humour." 

"Yeah," Simon interjected, "you know, Sandburg, the way pigs fly!" 

Unable to help himself, Blair laughed again but shook his head in defiant defence of his partner, "Simon, that is so not fair. Jim can almost be amusing - when you get to know him. Once you get past the colour coded containers and the house rules." 

"Sandburg!" Jim warned, looking reasonably affronted for a man who had been drinking consistently for the last three hours - but that didn't stop Blair. After all, Simon was the only man alive Blair could say these things to. 

"No, no, I don't want to be unfair," Blair paused only long enough to take a large swallow of his beer. "We did trash the colour coding a little while ago - but hey, with sentinel senses, Jim knows when I've left a towel on the bathroom floor before he even gets into the loft. I mean, how anal can you get?" 

Simon roared with laughter and Jim's eyes sparked before he thudded a playful punch into Blair's arm. 

"Hey, big guy," Blair went on, pressing his advantage now that he had one, "it's okay, really. In most tribal societies there's somebody who takes the role of the rule maker." 

"Yeah," Jim finally came up with a response, "and is there also a rule breaker? You know, the know-it-all who never stops quoting previous history to give you long enough to live it down?" 

Now it was Blair's turn to open his mouth with nothing to say. Jim took his advantage. "Hell, how did ancient societies survive without a resident anthropologist? Surprised they lasted as long as they did!" 

Simon laughed again, emptied his glass and came to his feet. "Right, you guys, home time. You might not have to work tomorrow but your driver does. Drink up." 

The air outside in the street would normally have frozen Blair's breath - but he was warm from the bar and the laughter and the first truly relaxing night they'd had for a long time. But the street was icy and he slipped - only to find his Blessed Protector catch him in time before he could do any damage. 

"Careful there, Chief," Jim murmured in his ear as Simon opened car doors. "Don't want any more broken bones. I like my Guides to stay in one piece." 

Blair could only grin. Jim had so many guides - and he'd broken all the others. The silly thought made him laugh, bringing a questioning look from Jim. Blair just shook his head and leaned into the warmth of Jim's arm around his shoulders. Seems he was drunker than he thought. 

Jim tumbled him into the back of the car and took the front seat himself. Without a word, Simon turned into the traffic and Blair leaned back, getting comfortable and watching the streetlights flicker past. He heard Simon speak but didn't catch the words. But he did hear Jim's deep laughter, a rumble from his chest that made Blair forget about how cold the car was in comparison to the bar. 

Yeah, laughter makes the world go round. No, that's supposed to be love makes the world go round. But they go together don't they? Love and laughter? Couldn't have one without the other, could you? Just wouldn't work like that. 

But Blair had laughter but no love. Not the best way to live, but it was better than nothing and in his life, he'd learned to take what life gave him for free, to cherish it and appreciate it. Jim's laughter came for free - and often at that. And if there ever came a day when he had to live without Jim's laughter, he would have lots to remember. 

He frowned out the window. Now why had that thought speared into him? Why would he have to live without Jim's laughter? 

Well, be honest here: Jim was a cop and had already, in the last three years alone, been closer to mortal danger than Blair would have thought possible and still survive. So it wasn't impossible that one day, Jim might not survive and so and so 

One day, Blair might not have his Blessed Protector around. 

Suddenly the cold of the car, of the winter appeared a balmy heat compared to the chill that settled in his stomach like a brick. 

Live without his best friend? Without Jim? 

"Hey, Chief, whas up with you?" Jim was leaning over the front seat and watching him with genuine concern. Unguarded for a moment, Blair met his gaze, barely able to see the familiar ice blue in the near-darkness. But he also knew Jim would be able to see him perfectly - so he quickly put his happy-drunk face back on and obfuscated without pausing. 

"Just thinking about life, man, you know, the good and the bad. Forget it." Silly thing was, one day he would have to - live without Jim, that was. After all, one day, he was going to finish his dissertation and then 

"I never picked you as a morose drunk," Jim replied, not really believing but prepared to go along with it. 

And then What? Leave Cascade to follow the work, what else? 

Yeah, what else? 

Nah, can't think about this tonight. Worry about it when it happens. 

"Okay, we're here. 852 Prospect." Simon announced. "Can you two make it up on your own or do you need a police escort?" 

"Already got one thanks," Blair quipped - then ruined it all by finding his hand unable to open the passenger door. He fumbled for a minute, leaning on it - then almost fell into the snow as Jim opened it for him. For the second time that night, he found himself wrapped up in the warmth of his sentinel and he liked it a lot. He didn't even realise Simon had driven off until he turned and found the car gone. Then Jim carefully led him into the building. 

The stairs took on a life and identity of their own as the two men stumbled and giggled their way upwards. One minute the steps were the same old ones he'd always known - the next, they were shifting and moving and for a moment, Blair wondered if he was going to keep his dinner down. Then Jim's strong arm around his shoulders steadied him and they made rapid progress until they reached the loft. 

But then it was Jim's turn to display the effects of the alcohol. Even with sentinel touch, his hands seemed to have great difficulty getting the key in the lock - so much so that Blair had to take them from him and do it himself. This engendered another batch of laughter as they stumbled into the living room, each taking a side of the door and leaning back to steady themselves. 

Blair was the first to move, weaving a crooked line to the nearest soft horizontal surface: the couch. He sank into blissful depths and closed his eyes - only to open them again when he sensed a presence standing over him. 

"What is it, man? Can you just let the dying die?" 

"Keys, Chief." 

"What about them?" 

"Have to go in the basket or I'll lose them in the morning." 

"Then put them in the basket, Jim," Blair spoke patiently, as one speaks to a particularly thick child. "Go on, it's just there, by the door, in the same place it always is. I promise I haven't moved it since this morning." 

"Yeah," Jim brought even more of exactly the same tone into his voice, "but you've still got 'em in your hand." 

"I have?" Blair raised his hand and realised he did indeed still hold the keys. "Oops. Broke house rule number 467. Sorry. Guess I'll be scrubbing the bathroom with my toothbrush for the next month." 

"Nah," Jim replied deadpan, plucking the keys from Blair's hand and tossing them into the basket. "Just a fortnight this time." 

"You're so good to me, big guy." 

"'Sno problem. You're my friend. 'Swhat friends are for. Shift over." 

Absently, Blair moved his legs to give Jim access to some of the couch. The big policeman plumped down beside him and Blair decided that if he sat up the room was less likely to spin around him. However, the speed of his action made it momentarily worse and he let out an involuntary groan. 

"Hey, Chief, you okay?" Jim's hand was on his back, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. 

"Yeah, in a sec. Don't stop." 

"Sure." Jim's impromptu back rub continued and Blair leaned into it, giving his stomach every chance to calm down. After a moment, it did and Blair rested back, his head fitting neatly into the curve of Jim's shoulder. 

For long minutes, silence filled the loft as Blair continued getting his reaction to the alcohol under complete control. However, it had it's limits - as he realised it had been so long since he'd last spoken. "Jim, you feeling okay? Not sick or anything." 

"Nope, feel fine. You?" 

"Okay now." 

"Great." 

Another silence - and for reasons Blair couldn't quite pinpoint, this one had none of the ease of the last. But he didn't move, even though he knew his ability to analyse anything more than a sheet of blank paper was pretty much gone. He just stayed where he was, letting his eyes close again for a few heartbeats. 

He woke with a start. His eyes flipped open, not recognising the walls of his bedroom. But no, it was okay - he was in the living room and apparently he'd fallen asleep with his head on Jim's shoulder. Gingerly, he took a quick look at the clock - two hours. Shit! He was going to have a sore neck in the morning. Suppressing a sigh, he turned his head to see if Jim was awake. The other man just opened his eyes as he did so. 

"Hey, Chief," Jim ran a hand over his head, glancing at the clock himself. "Hell! Damn good thing I don't have to work tomorrow - though I suppose you'll be spending the day grading papers or something." 

"Yeah," Blair murmured, strangely breathless as he watched Jim's face in profile. "I suppose I'd better go to bed." 

Jim nodded and turned with half a smile on his face - which froze the moment his gaze locked on Blair's. 

Long seconds stretched as neither man moved a single muscle. Blair could feel his heart pounding beneath his ribs but for the life of him, couldn't think of a single reason why it would. And then, when he thought he might know, he found himself leaning towards Jim and and Jim was leaning towards him and  and Blair lifted his face towards the bigger man and suddenly suddenly their lips touched. 

Sensations exploded in his head as the pressure against his mouth relaxed then intensified. Half a moan escaped him as Jim's hand came up to touch his face. He felt Jim's tongue brush against his own and he tasted beer and something else but it was so incredible and wonderful and it made his heart lift his mind soar his ears buzz his eyes blind and he never wanted it to end that first kiss so complete and so real and so incredibly perfectly exactly what he wanted. 

"Oh, god," he murmured when they finally parted for air. 

"Wrong guy," Jim whispered, his fingers caressing Blair's cheek, bringing a thumb to rest against Blair's chin in one of the most erotic gestures Blair had ever felt. "Just me." 

"No," Blair closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, letting it rest against Jim's forehead, "I was right the first time." 

A soft, gentle chuckle escaped Jim and he lifted Blair's face. With his thumb still on Blair's chin, he leaned in for another kiss, this time, pressing Blair to open to him more and Blair rolled with it, hungrily tasting again the essence of Jim Ellison in a way he'd never expected, never thought about but only now realised, he wanted very much. The kiss was sweet and tender as Jim explored his mouth, tongue rasping against Blair's, his teeth tugging against the bottom lip, his hand forever holding Blair's face. With a belated mental hiccup, Blair realised he was getting hard. 

"God, Jim, stop." He breathed, hardly able to believe he'd just said that. 

Jim moved back a little until he could see Blair's expression. "You mean stop? Or stop for a moment?" 

A shy smile escaped Blair as he gazed in awe into those blue eyes. "Just long enough for me to catch my breath - since you take it away." 

Now it was Jim's turn to smile shyly. Silence reigned for a moment, then Jim looked down, his hand leaving Blair's face long enough to entwine his fingers in Blair's. "Listen, you know, if you don't think you want I mean, I'll understand if you don't you know want to be sitting here kissing a guy well, I guess" 

"It's a bit of a surprise," Blair helped him out - and was rewarded with a brief glance and another smile. 

"Yeah, it is." Jim swallowed again. "Look, Blair, you're drunk, I'm drunk" 

"Kiss me again," Blair murmured. 

Jim didn't wait for a second invitation. Instead, he pulled Blair close and this time kissed him with a passion that really did take Blair's breath away. Almost instinctively, he shifted until his body melted into Jim's, no longer afraid to let the man know just how thoroughly he was aroused. A silent shriek of delight swept through him when he felt a hardness press against his own. 

Then Jim was leaving kisses along his jaw in a path to his earlobe and Blair was breathing heavily, his hands roaming down Jim's back. 

"Chief?" 

"Yes, Jim?" 

"Just in case, you know, just in case we are drunk and everything" 

"Yeah?" 

"Well, maybe we shouldn't do anything too involved right now." 

"What?" Blair froze and pulled back, unable to hide his instant embarrassment. 

Immediately, Jim pulled him close again, "No, that's not what I mean. God, Blair I want you so much but I dont want to," he paused, laughing lightly. 

"What?" 

"I was going to say I don't want to fuck anything up." 

Blair managed a chuckle of his own. "Yeah, right." 

Jim moved until he could look into Blair's eyes. A long moment drifted by before he said anything. Then the words tumbled out, "Blair would you sleep with me?" 

Frowning slightly, Blair murmured, "You mean sleep - or sleep?" 

"I mean, come upstairs with me, get into my bed with me and let me hold you while we go to sleep." 

Despite his disappointment, Blair knew Jim was right. He had to admit his head was still pretty fuzzy - and Jim looked to be in a similar condition. If this was just the alcohol playing games with them - they would both regret it if they actually made love tonight. But if it wasn't, and this thing was really real, there would be plenty of time to run with it tomorrow. 

With a smile, he brushed his fingers over Jim's lips, gratified - and thrilled when Jim caught one between his teeth and tugged gently. For what seemed like several minutes, Blair couldn't take his eyes from it. Then eventually his gaze met Jim's, "Let's go." 

Jim laughed, slightly hysterically and lurched to his feet. Taking Blair's hands in his, he pulled the smaller man up and wrapped his arms around him. Blair simply held on, knowing the moment would have to end soon and so not wanting it to. Then Jim was leading him up the stairs. When they got to the top, Jim kicked off his shoes, peeled his jeans away and threw them over the chair. Blair did his best not to watch, not trusting himself to keep to his promise about just sleeping. Instead, he removed his own shoes, shirt and jeans until he was covered in only t-shirt and boxers - the same as Jim. Then he realised they were just standing there, looking at each other. 

The silliness of the moment caught up with him and he let out a half-stifled giggle. 

Jim's eyebrows rose in a gesture painted with sudden self-doubt. "What is it?" 

"Nothing," Blair murmured, responding to that expression with a wide, genuine smile. "Just that I never knew how much warmer it is up here than in my room." 

Jim grinned, "Yeah, it is now." He reached forward and took Blair's hand again, pulling the covers back with the other. With firm insistence - which Blair didn't even try to resist - he got Blair under the blankets, immediately pressing forward for another kiss Blair eagerly joined in with. His head swam but this time it wasn't the alcohol. This time the reason was very solid and ridiculously real and made his guts ache, his toes curl and his blood pound. He wasn't sure he had ever been so turned on by a kiss in his entire life. 

Eventually, they broke apart, breathless and not a little awed. Then Jim smiled again, "Sleep, Chief." 

"Uh, sure, Jim." Blair gave him a smile of his own then rolled over so Jim could spoon up against his back. Instantly, Jim's arms came around him, pulling him closer. The warmth, the touch of Jim along his body was amazing. Unfamiliar and yet welcome, unusual and yet unsurprising. Blair laid a hand on Jim's left, which was gently stroking his stomach. More than anything, he wanted to pull that hand down further - but he resisted the temptation. There would be time for that tomorrow - if it turned out they still wanted it. 

And without being able to answer why, Blair was sure he would. 

Jim shifted against him, snuggling his upper body in closer, breathing in Blair's ear. "God, Chief, you smell so good." 

"I do?" Blair asked, somewhat surprised. 

"Sure. Sweet and complex and masculine. Nice." 

Blair settled with that for a moment - then thought of something important. For some reason, he wasn't tired any more - though it might have something to do with the aching hardness between his legs. "Jim?" 

"Mmn?" 

"You ever been er with a  man before?" 

"Never." Jim replied instantly, his voice betraying how awake he was. "I guess I can recognize a good-looking guy just like anyone else - but I've never wanted to take one to bed before tonight. What about you?" 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, ever been with a guy before?" 

"Uh, no." 

"Think about it?" 

"Before tonight?" 

"Yeah." 

"Nuh." 

"Thought so." 

Blair shifted a little and trembled as Jim caught his ear between gentle teeth. "Is that why?" 

"Why what?" 

"Why you want to take it slowly?" 

Jim groaned, "I don't want to, I just think we should." 

"You think?" 

"Hey, I do that sometimes. Just 'cause you're the brains in this outfit, doesn't mean I can't string a useful thought together occasionally - even if I am drunk." 

"Oh, I didn't know." 

A chuckle escaped the sentinel as he sent his tongue along the top of Blair's ear. "That I think?" 

"No," Blair replied, a little subdued, "that you think I'm the brains in this outfit." 

"Well, s'obvious, isn't it?" 

"No." 

"Well, it is to me. Now be quiet and let's get to sleep." 

"Sure, except that - " Blair paused, not wanting to admit the truth. 

"What?" 

"I'm not sleepy." 

Another chuckle escaped the bigger man and Blair wanted to sing with the joy of it all. "Me neither." 

With that, Blair turned his head until he could capture that mouth again, even if a little awkwardly. Jim's tongue worked on him like fire, setting him alight all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. God, he was never going to sleep again in his entire life if this went on much longer. 

Then Jim's face was in his hair again, his voice a soft whisper. "God, Blair you do smell so good, feel so good, taste so good." 

"Really?" Blair closed his eyes, a little fearful, more than a little excited. 

"Yeah. I can smell your shampoo, taste your sweat and smell pheromones so strong I'm surprised I can keep myself contained." 

Quietly now, Blair replied, "You don't have to, you know." 

"I know - but I will." 

Blair nodded in the darkness, knowing Jim would feel if not see the movement. With a sigh of what could have been complete contentment, he shifted until his whole body was pressed up against Jim's - and felt a rock hardness pressed against the cheeks of his arse. Instantly Jim moved away without letting go. 

"God, Blair, I'm sorry!" 

"Sorry?" Blair turned to try and see that strong face in the dark bedroom. "Sorry for what?" 

"I just well, I thought we should wait for the morning and everything but my body doesn't seem to be paying any attention and it's just that you're so close and you feel so good I maybe this isn't such a good idea... us being in bed together like this" 

"No!" Blair reached out until his hand was against Jim's thigh trying, vainly to pull the other man closer to him. "You don't know how good it feels knowing I do that to you. It's okay, I don't mind. Please, Jim, come closer." 

Jim paused only a moment - then, to Blair's delight, snuggled up again until his cock was pressed against Blair's cheeks, as though that was where it was supposed to have been all along. 

Blair relaxed a little - but only in places Jim could feel. Now the rest of him was fighting a losing battle and it was all he could do to stop himself moving his hips against that pressure, wonderful as it was. 

"Tell me," Jim breathed again, drawing in a lung-full of Blair's essence, "how you feel. I can sense your responses but I can't read your mind. If you do this to me, what do I do to you?" 

"Oh god, Jim," Blair groaned, "if you only knew!" He turned for another kiss, this one a blazing hell-fire that had Jim trembling and Blair almost insane with desire. Afterwards, Blair pulled Jim's arms around him until they held him tight. "I don't know if I can put it into words, man, but you you make me feel warm and safe and I can smell you too, not like you can smell me, sure, but it's good and your arms feel so strong and right and I love it when you kiss me like that, hell I love it no matter how you kiss me and I'm sure I'm not going to sleep a wink before morning." 

"Oh, Blair," Jim whispered into his hair again, but Blair could hear the happiness in those two words and found it answered in his own heart. No, the morning wasn't going to make them change their minds. The alcohol might have emboldened them both to do something they might not have dared before, but it didn't create this desire, didn't make it feel so good - and to be honest - couldn't possibly have given him the almighty erection he felt pushing against the cotton of his boxers. 

Gaining courage from Jim's voice, Blair continued. "You make me feel so damned good, Jim. You always have - except that now, I feel good, here, too." With that, he took Jim's hand and brushed it down over his tense stomach until it rested against his erection. Jim's hand froze for a moment, his breath catching and for a split second, Blair was terrified he'd read the whole thing the wrong way. Then slowly, Jim's hand relaxed under his, fingers reaching out to touch, so gently, so softly, the shape of his cock. Around the swollen head, dipping into the moisture that was already leaking into his boxers, along the hard shaft, feeling every ridge through the cloth. Blair thought he was going to have a heart attack at the sensation of that hand on him. Jim must have heard the hammering in his chest but he seemed suddenly incapable of stopping his hand from moving on, grasping the cock a little more firmly, tracing his fingers down further until they reached the swollen balls below, letting two fingers feel the outer shape, his whole hand to squeeze and probe. 

Just as Blair took a breath to either beg him to stop - or to please finish it, Jim spoke his own request, harsh and husky with wanting. 

"Please, Blair, let me touch you." 

Silently, Blair moved his hand, lifting the elastic of his boxers to give Jim access. Now his whole body tensed up, waiting for that first caress - and when it came, it sent a jolt through him from front to back, a piercing dagger of desire mixed with terror and anticipation. Jim began sucking on his earlobe again as his fingers gently dusted over Blair's cock, lightly teasing, exploring, feeling the exact shape of the head, the texture of the hair around his balls in the way only a sentinel could. Blair was in real trouble now, gasping in air as though his lungs might decide to just go off on a holiday of their own and leave him stranded if he kept them unoccupied for long. The sensation on his cock was incredible and he knew if Jim didn't stop in a second, he was going to embarrass them both and come all over Jim's hand. 

"Let me," Jim whispered, his voice full of knowing. "Let me do it, baby. Let me feel you come. Please." 

"Oh, god, Jim, yes." Blair croaked, no longer capable of controlling anything, let alone his voice. 

And Jim grasped him again, pulling him firmly and Blair was certain, as certain as he was about anything in this world, that he was going to die right there, with Jim wrapped around him, hard cock pressing up against him, hand stroking him, that yeah he was going to die and he didn't care any more because if a man had to die and every man had to die, right, well why not like this and go feeling so damned good he was going to explode. 

"Come on, baby, give it to me," Jim caressed his ears, his mind with those words and Blair began humping into the hand with all the energy of desire unresolved. Each thrust brought his arse back against Jim's cock and suddenly his hand was there, too, pressing Jim's hip against him. 

"Please, Jim, move." He managed, his breathing shortening as he tried to hold on long enough. 

"No, baby" 

"Yes, please, Jim." 

And that was all it took as Jim grabbed him harder and began thrusting against his arse, his breathing grunted in Blair's ears. 

The double sensation was too much for Blair. Arching his back, he pushed hard into the hand gripping him and let it go, exploding with a grunt wrenched from him, feeling the hot fluid shoot out and over Jim's hand. After the first shot, Jim stiffened, moaned and Blair felt an answering heat flooding his rear. Again and again they thrust against each other until they were exhausted. 

It took a long, long time before Blair's breathing finally returned to normal. When it did, he turned his head to find Jim smiling so openly at him that his heart melted in one swift go. Sighing, he leaned in for the kiss that had been denied him earlier and felt a passion in Jim that was only partly sated. He had to laugh. It was the most amazing thing to think he'd never felt this good before and only now discovered he could feel like this in the arms of another man - and his best friend at that. 

"What's so funny?" Again that sliver of self-doubt in Jim's voice. 

"Nothing funny, man, just that well, we're both a little messy is all." 

"Yeah. Nice messy though." 

"Very nice." Blair gave him another brief kiss then reached down and took Jim's hand from his boxers. Knowing Jim could see exactly what he was doing - and feeling suddenly very adventurous, he brought the hand to his lips and licked one finger. The taste of his own semen was almost enough to get him aroused again. What did it however, was the look of sheer hunger that filled Jim's eyes as he watched - and felt - what Blair was doing. A look so dazzling that Blair could see it clearly even in the dark. 

More bold now, he then rolled over until he faced Jim and reached down inside Jim's boxers and dipped a finger in the moisture there. Without a word, he brought it to Jim's lips and, with his eyes on Blair, Jim brought out his tongue and tasted, suckled on Blair's finger, more heat growing in his gaze with every moment. 

Blair collected more then brought Jim's messy hand up between them, mixing their juices together. He brought his mouth close, let his tongue come out and Jim followed and then they were licking and sucking their hands until their mouths met in a kiss so powerful, Blair felt dizziness overwhelm him. 

"Take your clothes off," Jim ordered - and Blair complied quickly. As Blair laid down again Jim sat up and pulled the sheets back so he could look at Blair naked. Slowly his hand came forward to brush a finger over Blair's nipple ring. "You are so sexy." His fingers teased the nipple until it was hard and Blair was breathing heavy again. He leaned forward and rasped his tongue over the tiny mound, making Blair moan. His lips were cool against Blair's feverish skin as they roamed further, touching, tasting, caressing. Then Blair's hands came out to touch Jim's chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the cloth. 

"Jim, I want to look at you." 

Jim nodded and in one swift motion, pulled the t-shirt off, tossing it somewhere. Blair had seen Jim naked before but only now could he pause long enough to admire the sight, the awesome power of the body so close to him. Blair pushed Jim back down and laid beside him, bringing his mouth to kiss the solid pecs, letting his tongue dictate where it wanted to go, from one smooth nipple to the other, across skin that felt like satin and velvet. Now he could feel Jim's laboured breathing as he worked his way south. Then he came across the damp boxers and, with glance at Jim, he pulled them down and off. 

The sight that greeted him was impressive to say the least. Already almost completely hard again, Jim's cock tried desperately to sit up and be admired by Blair - so Blair did the only thing his limited thinking would allow him at this time of night and with this much alcohol in him. He shifted and took the head into his mouth - and instantly Jim arched up off the bed as though zapped by an electric shock. Hands sank into his hair as incomprehensible words drifted in the air but Blair paid no attention. His mouth was hungry and he had to have his fill. His hands closed in and tugged the now rock-hard shaft, rolled the balls, pushed the thighs further apart and still Jim groaned above him. 

"Oh, god, Blair, yes. Please suck me." 

It was all the incentive Blair needed - if he really needed any at all. Holding his breath, he took more of the throbbing cock into his mouth, sucking more and more. Jim was now writhing, voicing some kind of warning but Blair paid no attention. He kept going until suddenly, he was dragged away, pulled up to Jim's face to have his mouth kissed hard, feverishly, as Jim positioned his knees on either side of his shoulders. 

Not waiting for permission, Jim lifted his head until he could take Blair's erection in his own mouth, gripped Blair's arse with both hands and now Blair suddenly understood why Jim had been so so 

Nope. Brain stopped working altogether now. Instead he simply let it go and made no effort to stop himself from thrusting into that moist warmth. Jim's tongue worked on him like a demon, until he was sure he could no longer stay upright. Feeling him sway, Jim caught him and let him down. They clung together for a moment, kissing urgently, letting the moment fill itself, banking their passion. 

Blair shifted a little until their cocks could touch and he felt Jim move in against him - but Blair wasn't finished. "Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Will you?" 

"Will I what?" 

"You know." 

"I'm a sentinel, baby, not a mind reader." Jim pressed another kiss to his lips. "Will I what?" 

"Take me?" 

Jim froze. After a full minute, during which Blair noticed Jim's erection grow slightly harder - if that was possible - Jim finally found the power of speech. His voice was soft, ragged and not a little scared. "You you want me to" 

"Yeah. I do." Blair swallowed, afraid again. "Only if you do." 

"Of course I want to but are you sure? I mean, really sure? I don't want to hurt you." 

"I'm not made of glass, Jim." 

"You know that's not what I mean," Jim growled, pulling Blair closer and planting a kiss on the top of his head. "It'll hurt and well, neither of us has done this before. Maybe we should wait." 

"And maybe we shouldn't be afraid of taking what we want." Blair said evenly. Now he knew that Jim wanted him, he had all the courage he needed. "And I want you inside me." 

"Okay," Jim whispered, his voice shaky. "Do you know how to do it?" 

"Well, I have read a little and you just need to stretch me so I can take you inside. And we need lubricant." 

"Can do that," Jim replied with a nervous laugh. He rolled away long enough to open the bedside drawer and come back with a tube of something. "I use it sometimes, on myself you know when" 

Blair smiled, "It's okay, Jim, you don't need to explain. Now, we just need to decide what position." 

Jim looked at him crookedly, "I only know one which men use. Maybe we'd best to stick to something simple this time." 

"Okay." Blair was having trouble keeping his own voice steady, knowing what they were about to do. A whole forest of butterflies seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach and he wasn't entirely sure they were ever going to leave. Steeling himself, he pressed his lips against Jim's once more, then moved until he was on his hands and knees. He felt more than saw Jim move behind him - and heard the sudden intake of breath. 

"God, Blair, I" 

"What?" Suddenly afraid again that Jim had changed his mind, that he might find this too horrible to think of 

"I don't think I've ever seen anything more erotic." Jim's words stilled the last of his fear and Blair let himself smile as Jim placed a hand on the small of his back, gently stroking, soothing Blair. 

Blair closed his eyes now, knowing he needed to kill the tension that was riding in his stomach, tickled there by those damned butterflies. He didn't know much, but he did know he had to be relaxed. Jim touched kisses to his back, drew down further and nipped one cheek between his teeth. Then suddenly Blair felt a finger pressed against his hole, cool and slick with jelly. The pressure increased as Jim's finger entered him, gently probing and Blair took it and wanted it \- and more. 

"Another." He murmured, keeping his shaking body still on the bed as Jim worked two fingers into him, stretching him. As he did so, he snaked a hand around Blair and began caressing his cock - and abruptly, Blair found himself involuntarily humping back against the fingers and forward into that hand. 

"Easy, baby," Jim's voice almost sang to him. "Take it easy. Slowly now." 

With a great force of will, Blair convinced his body to still. When he had done so, Jim withdrew his fingers, paused, then pushed them in again, more size and bulk and for a moment, Blair was worried the pressure was too great, that he'd never be able to take Jim's cock in there, no matter how badly he might need it - but then Jim's fingers brushed over something and he almost leapt off the bed. Again, his arse involuntarily humped back, wanting more, wanting that brush again. This time however, he didn't wait for Jim's words to slow him down - he knew himself, that if he didn't cool it a little, he was going to come before Jim could so much as touch him. 

"Ready?" Jim murmured, his voice betraying his own desire. 

"Uh, huh." Monosyllables. That's all Blair had left. So much for education. 

Fear and excitement twisted inside him again as he felt Jim's fingers withdraw and the man himself get into position. Then then oh, god, the head was inside him, pushing him forward, filling him - and he groaned. Pain assaulted him for a moment - until he heard Jim's voice, warm and gentle. 

"Easy, baby, easy. Just breathe. Stay with me. It will get better. Just relax." Jim's hand found his cock again and keeping the strokes firm and constant, Blair found the pain diminish and fade away until he nodded. 

"More." Again and again, they repeated this until Jim was finally buried inside him and Blair once more thought his lungs were packing their bags to go to Tahiti. 

"Breathe, baby," Jim said, holding him hard. 

"Only if you promise to move." 

And Jim did. Slowly, gently, lovingly. Each thrust brushed against that something, sending shivers right through to Blair's balls. He lifted his head, wishing he could kiss Jim right now, do something, anything that could communicate how incredible this was to the man behind him. But all he had was words - and precious few available to him as it was. 

"More, Jim, harder. Please, Jim, fuck me." 

And Jim moved harder and faster, slamming into him, smothering his back with kisses, pulling his cock in rhythm to his lunges and Blair felt his stomach clench, his knees and elbows grow weak, his mind grow blank, his awareness shrink until his whole world was encompassed within the pressure inside his arse, the touch against his cock. Everything swirled and rattled inside him, rolling around into one enormous burst of blinding light. 

Blair sucked in a huge breath, let out a yell and with Jim's name on his lips, felt his climax rip out of him with such violence he knew his body would be shrivelled up afterwards. Within a second, Jim lurched into him once more, slamming his cock deep into the channel and flooded Blair with his semen. Before he'd even finished, Blair was collapsing down onto the bed, whispering apologies to the man as he thrust one last time. 

It felt like an eternity before Blair could move again. Time during which he joyfully catalogued all the weird and yet wholly welcome sensations in his exhausted body. From the slowly shrinking cock in his arse, to the pounding in his temples, the sweat on his back intermingled with the wonderful man draped over him, the smell of their sex heavy in the air, the harsh breathing of Jim in his ear, right down to the soft ticking of the clock by the bed. 

But it couldn't last - at least, not if he wanted to go on breathing. "Hey, Jim?" 

"Hey, yourself." 

"Sorry, man. Too heavy." 

Without withdrawing, Jim wrapped his arms around Blair and rolled them both until Blair was lying on top of Jim, arms pressed against his chest. "You are very strange, Sandburg." 

"Me? Now you've fucked me it's back to Sandburg, is it?" 

"Sure - when you're apologising to me because I'm too heavy." 

Blair just grinned and let his head rest back against Jim's shoulder. He felt soft kisses brush against the side of his face and the grin became a wide open smile. 

"You sore?" Jim asked, quietly. 

"A little - but it's a nice kind of sore. What about you?" 

"Me? I'm not too sure about this, Chief, but I dont think I've ever felt better." 

Blair would have said something but at that moment, he felt Jim slip from him and he sighed a little at the separation. He carefully rolled over until he was facing Jim, felt the arms hold him tight again and took the kiss he'd wanted so much before. Jim's hand came up to cradle his head and he felt his heart burst with the amazing beauty of the moment. 

Then Jim was looking at him, holding his face between strong hands, a small, shy smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "I guess this was as close to morning as we were going to get." 

"Yeah, well," Blair nodded, "in my book, anything after midnight is morning anyway." 

"I guess it is. You feel like sleeping now?" 

"I think so. At least," Blair paused with a giggle, "until something better comes up." 

With a gust of helpless laughter, Jim rolled him over until they were side to side, wrapped up in each other. He took in another deep lungful of Blair-scent and settled. "Goodnight, Chief." 

"You know, I love it when you call me that after sex." 

His reply was a tiny nip at his shoulder. "Say goodnight, Blair." 

"Goodnight Blair." 

As he relaxed in Jim's arms, it occurred to Blair that he wanted to say something else but for the life of him, he couldn't work out what it was. Exhaustion, alcohol and mindblowing sex had turned his otherwise intensely agile mind to mashed potato. Didn't matter anyway. In the morning he'd work it out and say it then. Right now, he had all he wanted. 

It wasn't so much the unusual smells that woke Jim - it was their sudden and unexpected absence. For long minutes, he couldn't work out why that would be unsettling enough to wake him - but then he remembered what had happened last night and the shock of it all opened his eyes so quickly, the daylight almost blinded him. 

Yeah, he was in his bed, in his loft and it was something close to midday. Okay, that much was fine. And there, on the floor, on the chair were his clothes - and yes, Blair's jeans so no, he hadn't been having a weird dream or anything. And there was that strong and unmistakable scent of heavy musk in the air - sex. Recent and energetic. Fine, so much for reality. Next question: where was the object of his dreams? 

He concentrated hard and listened carefully, extending his hearing down the stairs, across the loft - ah, and into the bathroom. The shower just turned off and he heard whistling. He listened carefully, with a smile on his face, for some minutes more - and then the bathroom door opened and the man himself came out, the whistling now silent. Jim heard a few kitchen noises then footsteps on the floor. They paused at the bottom of the stairs and Jim knew the hesitation in that movement. 

"Hey, Chief?" He didn't move from the bed as he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Then Blair was with him, a glass of orange juice held a little shakily in his hand, a look of hidden fear in those amazing blue eyes. 

"Morning, Jim." 

Jim wanted to smile and make it alright - but he wasn't sure what was behind that fear yet, so he just said, "That for me?" 

"Uh, yeah. Just put coffee on so it will be a few minutes more." He handed the glass over and Jim sat up, noting the sweater and loose trousers Blair wore, a sky blue, near the colour of his eyes. He looked so wonderful first thing in the morning. So wonderful, Jim found himself slightly disbelieving that what he knew had happened last night, had acutally happened. 

He and Blair had and it had been fantastic and god, was this real? But yes, it was because there was Blair standing before him, a little afraid, perhaps even a little happy - it was impossible to guess. 

Jim sipped the juice, thinking of some way to say something to work out what the hell was going on behind those eyes. He opted for safety first. "You weren't here when I woke up." 

"I er," Blair brushed the hair back from his face, finding it difficult to meet Jim's gaze. "Needed a shower, you know? I was, uh, thirsty and needed a pee and, er, I thought you might" 

"You think I regret last night?" 

This brought Blair's gaze back to him instantly, direct, harsh and displaying all the fear in one huge rush. "Do you?" 

Jim just shook his head, "No. You?" 

His answer was the most blinding smile he'd ever seen. "No way, man, I mean" 

"Then come here," Jim put his glass down and held out an arm. "Unless you can't bear to kiss a man who hasn't cleaned his teeth yet." 

"I'll cope." Blair launched into him, pushing him back down until they were a messy tangle of limbs and kisses. Then suddenly they were both laughing and delighting in it and all Jim could smell was the clean damp presence of his guide in his bed and he felt so complete it amazed him he could have all this on what was otherwise an ordinary Saturday morning. 

Eventually they calmed and Jim settled for a moment, his head on Blair's shoulder, his fingers trailing in the soft curls beneath Blair's shirt. 

"Jim?" 

"Yes?" 

"We need to talk about this." 

"We do?" Jim nuzzled closer, letting his tongue dip in and taste the delicious neck so near and so tempting. "Why?" 

"Well, because because this is all so sudden." 

"If you say so." 

"You mean it isn't? For you?" 

"I mean," Jim replied patiently, letting his fingers drift higher to touch one unadorned nipple. "We don't have to make it any more complicated than it is." 

"You're still not making yourself clear." 

"Sorry, you kind of distract me, you know?" 

A gentle chuckle was his reward, "Yeah, as it happens, I know exactly what you mean. But please, Jim, I need to know. I need some answers or it's really going to start bugging me." 

Jim sighed and stopped his hands from moving. "Should have woken up before you got in the shower. Now you've had twenty minutes more thinking time than me and yet you expect me to give you answers." 

"God, Jim, dont do that!" Blair shifted impatiently and Jim sat up, facing him. 

"Don't do what?" 

Blair waved his hands around, displaying his discomfort. "You, man. You sit there looking so damned gorgeous and hell, I want a repeat of last night just to make myself believe it really happened but I need to know what's going on here. This is so way off my scale for things unexpected. Man, I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. What did you mean about it not being sudden?" 

Jim was momentarily tempted to pull Blair back down and show him what he meant - but he heard the edge of desperation in Blair's voice and decided to let discretion be the better part of whatever it was that was that was glowing inside him. He nodded, pulled a pillow across his lap and took Blair's hand in his. "I meant that it felt sudden last night but after the first surprise, it didn't." 

"Like?" 

Frowning a little, Jim let his gaze rest on their joined hands. "Like maybe I'd been thinking of you that way for a while and just never realised it." Simply holding Blair's hand gave him a kind of calm he'd never noticed before even though he knew there was a frame of fear sitting around it. Yes, Blair was right, this was strange and weird and unexpected - but wasn't it possible that it was also right? It certainly felt that way, last night and now. 

It was overwhelming feeling this strongly about anything at all. He wasn't accustomed to having to pare his emotions, to tie them up into neat bundles he could express when he had to. He was too used to following his instincts and, odd as it may be that his instincts had led him to sleep with his best friend, he couldn't for the life of him, find any cause for rejection. If it wasn't broken, dont fix it. 

He lifted his gaze to meet Blair's and found a frown waiting for him. Carefully, and not a little afraid, he murmured, "What about you?" 

"Me?" Blair's eyebrows shot up. "Hell, I'm just so buried in confusion here, man. I mean, hey, we're both guys, you know? And doesn't that bother you at all?" 

"Well," Jim paused to do a quick internal strip search - but was unsurprised to finding nothing. "You'd think so. But, no, it doesn't seem to bother me at all. However, it does appear to worry you quite a bit." 

"Worry? Worry? Hell, why should it worry me, Jim?" Blair's hands left Jim's and flew about the air, an adjunct to his agitation. "No way, man, sure it bothers me. I mean, I've been straight all my life. So have you - and then one drunken night, we get into bed together and have the best sex I've ever had." 

"Me too." Jim added quietly, but Blair pressed on. 

"But it's just so wrong, you know? I mean, why now? Why with each other? Why didn't I notice something before last night? I don't know about you but I can't just look at last night as being a momentary aberration. I can't believe we just did that and I didn't notice it building before. Hell, I'm a scientist - I'm supposed to be observant \- and I didn't notice and hell, Jim, yes that bothers me. I'm sorry but it does." 

Carefully, Jim reached for one of those hands again, keeping his voice calm and sure, "I'm a cop, Blair, trained to observe and no, I didn't notice before last night either - but as a cop, I'm also aware that there a plenty of things in life that seem to happen without a reason." 

"I can't buy that, man." 

"Can't," Jim paused, "or won't?" 

"I" Blair stopped and pulled in his bottom lip, in itself, a gesture almost perfectly designed to distract Jim from his thoughts. 

"What are you afraid of, Chief?" 

"Take your pick. Global warming, nuclear waste, nerve gas, genetic manipulation and the Jags dropping the season." Blair's voice dropped a little as he looked away. "Mostly I'm afraid of this being the biggest mistake of my life." 

"No, I'm sure you'll make plenty bigger." 

Blair pulled away from his grasp again, "I might have known you wouldn't take me seriously. That's why I got up before you did. I knew you'd do this." He climbed off the bed and looked every inch a man readying himself to walk away - permanently. 

"Blair, wait. I'm sorry, I do take this seriously. I take you very seriously. Please, sit down." 

The other man paused, obviously warring within himself and Jim added, "Don't make your walking out now the biggest mistake of your life." 

With a huge sigh, Blair sank onto the bed - but well enough away from Jim so that casual contact was impossible. Jim idly took Blair's vitals and realised he needed to be careful here. "I don't know why you think I have any more answers than you." 

"Well," Blair replied softly, not looking up, "you were the one being adult about it last night, suggesting we wait until this morning before we did anything we might regret." 

"Yeah, and I was so adult, I reneged on it the moment I got my arms around you." Blair immediately began to protest this but Jim held up his hands, "I'm not pointing fingers of blame, Chief, merely stating facts. Now, we've established neither of us regrets what happened, agreed?" 

"I guess so." 

"Don't guess, Chief, this is important. Do you regret it?" 

"Not exactly." 

"Be exact." 

Blair paused a moment, gathering himself, "No, I don't regret it. It was wonderful. But I don't want to regret it later and I'm afraid I will." 

"Why do you think you might?" 

"Because, man, you're my best friend and I don't want to risk losing you." 

"And you think us sleeping together is going to risk that?" 

"You thought so last night." 

"And you didn't. What's changed?" 

"I sobered up." 

"Really?" 

Blair glanced up, gave a sheepish shrug. "I'm sorry Jim, I guess I'm just a little spooked. I suppose I kinda figured you'd be the one worrying about it this morning and I think I'm sort of surprised you're not. Maybe my subconscious thinks somebody should worry and nominated me." 

"Your worries are important to me, Chief. Important to us." Jim scooted a little closer but deliberately didn't reach out and touch the other man. "Look, I know you're a scientist and your amazingly analytical mind is dizzy trying to make sense of this but perhaps you just need to relax and accept that there might not be an explanation for it. Maybe it just happened. Maybe it's been happening since the day we met - or from about eight thirty last night. I doubt we'll ever know. But this is what I meant by making it more complicated than it is. The truth is, we both enjoyed last night and I think that even if it does turn out to be a mistake, our friendship is strong enough to cope. It's not like we went in with our eyes shut. Even though we were both pretty drunk last night, didn't stop either of us considering the ramifications. Do you think if we'd waited until this morning we wouldn't even now be busy doing something other than talking?" 

Blair shrugged then shook his head, "No. I knew I wouldn't feel any different when I woke up. I knew I'd still want you in the morning. Maybe I was afraid you might change your mind." 

"I haven't changed my mind. Not at all. But last night we made the choice and I think it was the right one. I need to know you think that too." 

Blair nodded, his head hung low, "I do. At least, I do at the moment. Like I said, I'm just afraid of what will happen later." 

Jim held his breath a moment, letting his instincts guide him. "You wonder if we have any future together? As a couple?" 

His only answer was a dejected nod. 

"Well, I'm not going to give you an easy lie and say, sure Chief, we have a bright and happy future together - 'cause we'd both know it would be a lie and I don't want to start out a relationship with you based on that kind of crap. All I know is, I want to try. You mean too much to me, Blair. Way too much to do anything less. Is that enough for now? Can't we give ourselves time to work out the whys later? When the surprise and shock has worn off a little?" 

For a moment, Blair said nothing. Then nodded slowly. "I'd like that. I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to" 

Now Jim did move, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, breathing in the scent which had come to be so important a part of his life. "Forget it, Chief. You're just being you and I promise you, I don't mind it one little bit." 

"I guess it would be a little late to complain - considering what we did last night." Blair spoke into Jim's shoulder. Abruptly he gave a little embarrassed laugh and shook his head. 

"What?" 

"Well, I know this is going to sound odd - but hey, what isn't at the moment." 

"Out with it, Chief." 

"Well, I was just thinking, I can't believe we did that, you know? That I wanted it so much." 

"Me inside you?" 

"Yeah and that I er enjoyed it, you know? I never thought it could be enjoyable - not like that!" 

"You don't know how glad I am to hear that, Chief. And you feel okay this morning? No pain or anything?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay." 

Jim turned until he caught Blair's gaze with his own. "Just tell me: do you think we should try - or do we put this one night down to experience and move on?" 

"Do you think that's still possible - after last night?" 

Jim shrugged, "If we really tried, yes, sure, why not?" 

Blair risked a little laugh, "Well, for one, it goes way past me breaking one of your house rules." 

"Don't sleep with your partner? Rule number 734, as I recall." 

Laughing, Blair reached up and brushed his fingers over Jim's face. He nodded, "Yes, Jim, I want to give it a try. I think maybe we might belong together." 

Wanting to shout with relief, Jim contained himself with a grin he knew went from ear to ear. "I suppose your next suggestion is that it's what Sentinels and Guides are supposed to do." 

"Well, it might be for all we know." 

Jim planted a firm kiss on those desirable lips and reluctantly let Blair go. "Well, you think about it while I'm in the shower. I'm sure you'll have another chapter for your dissertation all plotted out by the time I'm out." 

He was only just quick enough to avoid the swat Blair gave his arse as he moved away. However, he wasn't anywhere near quick enough to miss the shoe which flew down the stairs after him. 

* * *

Blair sat at the desk, idly counting paperclips, waiting for Jim to return. Despite the fact that they were supposed to have today off \- Simon had called Jim in for what he'd promised was only to be a couple of hours. Both Blair and Jim had hated the call. It was way too early for them to have to face the world. God, they'd not even been together a full twenty-four hours - and yet now, Blair was having to sit in the bull-pen, wiling away time, waiting for Jim to come back so they could go and do some shopping. Blair had offered to cook a special dinner for just the two of them. He felt they needed some quality time alone and Jim had leapt at the idea. 

He came to the end of his paper clips, messed them up and began aligning them in neat little patterns. It wasn't until he heard the lift doors opening that he realised that he'd written Jim's name five times over. Before he looked up, he quickly ran his hands over the paperclips and obscured whatever it was his subconscious was trying to tell him. 

But then he did look up - into a pair of ice-blue eyes, focussed on him alone, a light in them that warmed Blair's heart to the core and parts of him inside did a neat little flutter and it was all he could do to not leap up into the man's arms, right there, in front of everyone. 

"Hey, Chief," Jim began, shrugging off his coat - and not for the first time, Blair wondered how somebody so big could move so gracefully. There had always been something about Jim's size that Blair liked. Something solid and dependable about it. Perhaps even attractive. 

But hell, everything about Jim was attractive. "Hey, Jim. How'd it go?" 

As though performing a mentally rehersed series of actions, Jim waved a signal towards Simon's office, grunted a greeting to the others in the bull-pen then swung into his chair, almost on one fluid movement. Blair drank it all in. 

Jim turned his gaze on Blair, pinning and stapling, tucking and folding. "Fine, Chief. Be ready to go in about ten minutes. That okay?" 

Okay? Ten minutes and this incredible man would be his for the rest of the weekend? Bargain! Feeling sleeping bits across his body awaken suddenly at the prospect, Blair nodded, keeping his face carefully schooled of too much enthusiasm. "Sure, that's great." 

A small tick on the side of Jim's mouth was all Blair saw of the struggle Jim was going through. Another flood of warmth washed through him at the thought that Jim was finding it difficult being this close to him without being able to acknowledge what had happened between them last night. With a brief nod, Jim turned to his computer and set about opening up some files. Blair sat in silence and watched for a moment. Then, feeling a little mischevious, he purred a whisper, too low for anyone else in the room to hear - but clearly audible to a sentinel. 

"I think we do need a replay of last night, Jim, just to make sure we meant it." 

With some degree of satisfaction, he saw Jim's gaze freeze, reflecting the light from his screen. In perfect profile, Jim's jaw clenched - then deliberately relaxed. Thus encouraged, Blair continued softly. "I mean, the whole thing, without the alochol. I want to make sure this time that I feel everything that you do to me. Everything that we do to each other. Everything that I do to you." He paused, letting his whisper go breathy and seductive, "Every inch of you inside me." 

This time the jaw clenched suddenly, as if snapped so by an elastic band. Jim turned his head but didn't actually meet Blair's eyes. He drew in a steadying breath, then, as though he'd switched on a light, he turned completely, his gaze totally changed. Suddenly he was smiling comfortably, easily, the way he always did. "Chief, I wonder if you would help me out with something?" 

Slightly wary, a little afraid - and somewhat disappointed, Blair shrugged. "Sure. What?" 

"I'll explain on the way downstairs." Jim got up and waved him along. They headed out into the corridor and down, into an area Blair rarely passed through. Jim paused before a door, opened it and ushered Blair inside. Blair was looking at Jim so didn't notice at first that the room was dark. 

He did notice it however, when Jim's large hand landed on the middle of his back, pushing him into darkness. Jim shut the door behind them and in one swift movement, pushed Blair up against the opposite wall of the cupboard and turned him around. Suddenly his hands and lips were all over Blair and within seconds, Blair was left gasping, desperately trying to drink in the taste of his sentinel as a dying man drinks water in a desert. 

Jim's whole body blanketed his, his kisses hard fire, his breathing a freight train, his hands pushed and pinched, grabbed and took and Blair almost died from the unbridled passion unleashed to him. Then Jim was whispering, his hands moving frantically downwards, feeling Blair's hardness, his readiness. "God, Chief, you are going to kill me. Just looking at you I want you. Now!" 

And Blair felt his fly undone, his cock freed into Jim's eager hands. Blair tried to reach for Jim's but the bigger man got there before him, bringing both their hard shafts close together, another deep kiss, ending further comment. 

Hard and fast now, Jim pulled them both, his teeth sinking into the one exposed area of Blair's shoulder. Riding a tidal wave, Blair could do nothing but hold on as Jim stroked them both towards madness. Dizzy from too much oxygen, Blair gripped Jim's sweater for all he was worth, his blood pounding, his hips thrusting hard against what Jim was doing to them both. And then Jim was coming all over his hands and Blair was whimpering and following close behind, falling slowly, a mass of jelly, into Jim's waiting arms. 

What seemed like hours drifted by as they both struggled to regain normal breathing patterns. Then carefully, Jim set Blair back against the wall, making sure he wouldn't drop. Then he turned away and Blair heard sounds of running water, a basin in the cupboard. Hands being washed and dried. Then Jim was back with him, his arms tight again, his kiss deep and more blinding than the darkness. Good thing at least one of them could see. 

"The one and only time, Blair," Jim whispered close to his ear. "Never again will we do this here. Understand?" 

"Never really expected this." 

A soft chuckle reached him, "You know how many chemicals and cleaners are in this cupboard? And yet, the only thing I can smell is you." A deep intake of air as Jim drew in his scent and instantly, Blair felt a tingle run up his spine. God, why did Jim sniffing him like that turn him on so bad? 

Jim didn't need to be a sentinel to feel Blair's reaction. That happened all by itself. Again Jim chuckled softly. "Do you have any idea the penalties I would be given for doing what I'm about to do? Assuming we get caught?" 

Hearing the breath of excitement in Jim's whisper, Blair grunted, "No? But, what are you going to" 

But Jim wasn't with him any more. Jim was abruptly on his knees before Blair, his hands around the growing errection, his tongue going out to lap up the remnants of his last climax. In response, Blair plastered himself against the wall, palms flat, and was almost ready for the moment when Jim took his cock into his mouth. 

Blair almost bit his tongue to stifle the moan desperately trying to escape him. Frantically, he bit down on his wrist, hoping the cloth of his three shirts would silence the noise. But after that, he couldn't have cared less. Jim made love to him with all the enthusiasm and energy he'd displayed the night before - only this time, it was all concentrated on Blair's cock. 

Using his hands and mouth, Jim brought him up to full hardness and began milking him, rough and catching every fantasy Blair had ever had all in one go. He would have given anything to have been able to turn on the light and watch as Jim sucked him - but he was too afraid to move, too afraid somebody would notice the light from under the door, open it and see what they were doing. And yet, the danger that that might happen only sharpened his arousal. Soon he was panting and biting his wrist until he was sure he had bruises. Then Jim sucked deep, taking him right down his throat and Blair gave up, letting go and coming in waves. Again and again he thrust and Jim drank it all until Blair was utterly spent. Only then did he finally release the cock, gently and carefully caressing it before tucking it back inside the clothing. 

A limp rag, Blair couldn't move from the wall. Instead, he reached out with one weak hand and pulled Jim to him, taking a kiss, making it his own, tasting himself in Jim's mouth, their flavours mixed and intertwined just as the rest of them were. 

"God, Jim!" Blair breathed. "That was" 

"Yeah, wasn't it." Jim kissed his forehead, tenderly. "But I got to get back to work so we can get out of here." 

"But what about you?" Blair reached for Jim. 

"I can wait," Blair could hear the smile in Jim's voice. "It was worth it to see the look on your face when you came." 

"You could see that?" 

"Uh huh." Another kiss and Jim tidied their clothes up, straightened Blair's hair and stepped back, giving them both time to compose themselves. 

But Blair wasn't so easily persuaded, "But Jim, I would really like to" 

"I know, Chief," Jim's soft voice was warm, a light in the darkness. "But the longer we're in here, the greater the risk. It's clear out there at the moment so now's our chance to leave unseen. I'll wait till we get home. Then I promise you, I'll be more than ready to do as you suggested." 

"Er what did I suggest?" 

"A replay of last night?" 

"Oh." Blair snapped his mouth shut, his mind already working on too many things at the same time. "Any part in particular?" 

"Yep," Jim turned and opened the door, and Blair followed him out into the corridor. 

"Which part?" 

As they walked along, back to the bull-pen, Jim gave him an easy casual smile, his voice so low, Blair could hardly hear it. "Oh, I thought perhaps back from the point where you said that thing about lubrication. From then on." 

"Oh." Again, words failed Blair as images piled into his head - all of them wonderfully enticing - despite his recent activity. 

"But I should warn you," Jim added, taking up his seat again. 

"What?" 

"I've thought of an alternative position." 

That shut Blair right up. Instead, he was forced to spend the next ten minutes in complete silence just so Jim could finish up his work. Finally they got out of the station and headed directly to the market. Blair got through the shopping in record time, sure he was forgetting a dozen things. The whole time he knew Jim was watching him with thinly veiled amusement and carefully controlled anticipation. Blair found himself blushing every five minutes. 

When they got back to the loft, Jim kept his promise. And Blair liked the new position. Very much. He found there was an awful lot to be said for lying flat on your back while an insanely georgous sentinel lay between your legs, taking you and making you his. To be able to kiss and touch, to watch his face as he prepared and entered you, to feel the movement of him, as he thrust and came inside you. Yeah, a lot to be said indeed. 

Except that the act itself, in the end, left Blair completely and utterly speachless. 

* * *

_Present day_  
 _Tuesday_

Blair started when he heard the rustle of paper. He turned and glanced at his office door to find an essay being slipped through the gap at the bottom. It took him a moment before he caught his bearings, got his head out of the past and climbed out of his chair to pick the essay up. He barely looked at the name before dropping it on his desk. 

And that was how it had begun. 

In fear and expectation and excitement and wonder. That first day, that first night together so much like the weeks that followed. So easy to slip into, so needed, so wanted. They kept the façade up at work, giving nothing away out of sheer discipline - but outside of work hours, they'd been unable to get enough of each other. Little phone calls during the day, to hear a familiar voice, hours spent on the couch, lying together, watching TV or reading. More nights spent in bed together, the sex, the close and intimate moments afterwards. It was, all of it, utterly wonderful. For those first few weeks, up until the card night, Blair had asked himself every day what he'd done to deserve such happiness. 

Yeah, he'd been happy - and so, it appeared on the surface, had Jim. At least, until that one card night, Blair had never had any reason to think Jim wasn't happy. They fit together so well as a couple. Their days didn't really change that much - except that perhaps they had lunch together more often and maybe Jim was a little more protective than he'd been before - but everything had been good. Absolutely everything. 

And the nights? 

That first night, Blair had been blown away by how good it was. But, as he had often discovered in the course of a relationship, the first coupling never ended up being the best. Sex with Jim had developed into an amazing adventure which had the power to overwhelm him at a moment's notice. As the days went by, he found himself drifting for hours at a time, simply recalling the way Jim had touched him the night before, how Jim had reacted to something Blair had done, of the look on his face when pleasure aroused him, how soft and gentle - or hard and demanding his kisses could be. Of course, he managed to keep his mind on the job when they were out on a case - and oddly, this surprised him, until he realised that this was the time Jim needed him the most to keep both of them safe - and he stopped worrying about it. 

But there were moments, in the bull pen, when he saw Jim laugh in a particular way, or when the corner of Jim's mouth lifted in response to something he saw in Blair - and Blair would be off in the daisies, only nudged back gently when Jim noticed. 

How anyone could not notice how happy they were had been a constant surprise to Blair. He'd always felt like he was walking around with this huge sign painted across his back with the words, Jim and I are together and man, so together and it is so wonderful I think I'm going to die from it. 

But nobody had said a thing and had nobody looked at them any differently and a small part of Blair couldn't help being disappointed. Which was, in a way, why the card night had been such a problem. By that point, Blair had virtually moved into Jim's bedroom and only used his own to study in. And then it had been Jim's turn to host the poker night and that afternoon Blair had gone home early to put some food together and clean up and make everything normal and acceptable to Jim's friends and suddenly, half-way through it all he began to wonder why was doing it at all. 

Were they going to keep the secret forever? Was Jim, in some quiet way, ashamed to admit he and Blair were sleeping together? Had been for almost a month? 

So, he had waited until Jim got home - and asked him. 

* * *

_Three months before_

"You want to what?" 

Blair paused, letting his hands rest on the bowl in front of him, feeling weirdly protected by the kitchen bench sitting between him and Jim. "Well, I just thought this might be a good opportunity to, you know, tell them." 

Jim's gaze struck right through him. "You want to announce to my friends, men I have to work with tomorrow, that we're sleeping together? Just like that?" 

"Well, hey, Jim, it's been a month now. I dont know about you, but I get the feeling we're not going to stop any time soon. Look, if you don't want to, then that's okay. I'm mean, I'm not pressuring you to come out or anything. I just thought that you might want to think about it." 

Jim walked towards him slowly, his gaze dark, "No you didn't. You've decided already and you want to just do it, don't you? It's so easy for you to be so open you never seem to take into consideration that it might not be easy for me. Hell, you know what they do to cops even suspected of being gay. Do you think I want anything like that? Have you any idea what it would do to my career?" 

Blair opened his mouth - then shut it abruptly, being too afraid of the words that were dying to be ripped out of him. Rage and disappointment flowing through him like a river that had broken its banks, he turned for the fridge, ostensibly to get tomatoes for the salsa he was making - but then Jim was at his side, reaching for him, holding him tight. 

"God, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean it like that. Really I didn't. You just caught me off guard." 

Blair held onto his stiffness, still not trusting himself to speak so Jim went on. "I just haven't really thought about it yet. These last few weeks have been so wonderful I guess I've just been thinking it's always going to be you and me. And that's what I want, really. Just you and me. Please, don't be angry." 

With that, Jim held his face in his hands and planted a gentle kiss on Blair's lips and not being able to help himself, Blair melted into him, wanting and needing reassurance at the same time. "But you will think about it, won't you? I don't want to have to move all my stuff downstairs every time somebody is coming over. Will you think about it?" 

He pulled back to watch Jim's face but he could read nothing from it and suddenly he was very sorry he had brought the subject up because it was the first time they'd had any kind of rift between them and he wanted the heaven to go on just as it was. Hell, what did it matter if the guys didn't know? What mattered was that they knew, he and Jim, and that was the only thing that was important. 

"Blair," Jim began carefully, "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell them." 

Blair tore away instantly. "You're ashamed of me! Of us!" 

"No! God, no!" Jim went to him again, overwhelming him with his greater size. "Never ashamed of you. God any man or woman would be proud to have you! Proud to announce it to the world." 

"Yeah, sure," Blair spat, "as long as he's not a macho straight cop like one Jim Ellison. Yeah, I get the picture. Fine. Don't worry about it, man. It doesn't matter." 

"Blair, stop it!" Jim did catch him this time, holding his hands firmly so Blair couldn't back away. "Now listen to me. It's not as simple as me just telling the guys. If it was, I'd have done it the day we got together. But it doesn't work like that and you know it. Hell, you've been around cops long enough to know that they're probably more homophobic than the KKK. Do you have any idea what would happen if word got out? I'd be a real living target, with a huge bullseye painted right across my chest. What's worse is, so would you. They'd blame you for corrupting me and I couldn't take that. I'd try but I just couldn't be around you day after day, knowing what might happen if I dropped my guard for a minute." 

"And your career would go straight down the toilet." 

"Christ, Blair!" Jim yelled, his eyes blazing. "I don't give a fuck about my damned career! I just won't put you in that kind of danger! God, it's bad enough as it is with the trouble I get you into. Do you have any idea how simple it would be for you to collect a stray bullet from our own side?" 

A little subdued by the passion of Jim's argument, Blair grunted, "It wouldn't be that bad, would it?" 

"Happened two weeks ago, in Seattle. The guy pulling the trigger was a uniformed cop in the same precinct. Shot a guy he'd found out was dating a male detective. Admitted to it afterwards, saying it was his duty as a law-abiding officer to rid the world of such filth." 

Blair flinched at the word and let himself be pulled into a tight embrace. 

"I'm sorry, Blair. I don't want you getting hurt - but I'd rather your feelings were hurt a little than risk losing you like that. I just can't do that to you. Please try and understand." 

Blair nodded slowly, bringing his arms around the strong back of his lover. "Yeah, okay, Jim, I understand. But it does hurt, you know? Especially when I know at least one topic of conversation tonight will be the sad and sorry state of your love life and how one or more of the guys will know some great girl you should meet." 

"In that case, I'll just tell them that I'm already seeing somebody and don't need any help thank you." 

Blair smiled at that and lifted his head, "Sure, right, and that would instantly stop them asking questions about what she looks like and does she come across." 

"Well, I could tell them," Jim mused, dusting kisses across Blair's forehead, "that this special person is irritating and brilliant, never stops talking unless we're making love and that I'm not sure I've ever been happier with anyone in my entire life." 

Laughing now - and deeply touched, Blair asked, "Is that all?" 

"Well, I could mention how I can't wait to get this person into bed each night and often spend the whole day thinking about very little else. How a single touch can get me so worked up I think I'll explode, how a look from a pair of blue eyes can snatch away any attempt at reasonable thought for an hour at a time." 

"Hey, man, that is so not fair," Blair squirmed, feeling an answering hardness to his own. "I go two hours at a time even when I work at it." 

"You develop a little more self-control as you get older, Chief," Jim chuckled. "Not much, but a little. Stops me embarrassing myself in the middle of the working day." 

And then Jim kissed him and he forgot all about self-control and everything else until the doorbell rang. 

[Continued in part two](betweendusk_a.html).


	2. Chapter 2

Due to length, this story has been split into three parts.

## Between Dusk and Dawn

By Jack Reuben Darcy

Author's homepage: <http://internetdump.com/users/angiet>

* * *

Between Dusk and Dawn - part two  
by Jack Reuben Darcy 

_Present day_  
 _Tuesday_

But that hadn't been the end of it. If only it had. 

Blair pulled his backpack from the floor and began loading it up to take home. He obviously wasn’t going to get any more work done here today so the least he could do was return to his apartment and close his eyes for a while. He wanted to be well rested before going out on this date with Jim tonight. 

Still surprised him, the idea of actually going out on a date with the man. Especially after everything that had happened. Talk about the Twilight Zone. 

He locked his office and headed off down the corridor, his thoughts drifting back to that week, the one after the card night. The week when, for the first time, he'd begun to wonder if all his earlier concerns might not indeed have some serious foundation in reality. 

It had caught up with them again one night when Simon dropped Jim at home because Jim's truck was in the shop. They'd come up for a beer and Blair had been working at the kitchen table. Simon had been all friendliness for the first half hour as he and Jim had chatted. Blair had half-listened, trying to keep his attention on the next chapter of his dissertation that had to be in with review edits complete in two day's time. As a result, he hadn't really noticed when Jim had launched into the story about this new woman he was seeing. It was only when he heard the word 'irritating' that he found himself smiling and looking up to gauge Simon's reaction. 

"Sounds like Sandburg to me." 

A burst of laughter, joined by Jim, the black man tossing an apologetic glance at Blair, with no idea the hurt he was causing. And then Jim had let loose a carefully constructed obfuscation, something about Blair being too short and not his type at all. Then Simon had admitted that half the guys down the station had bets on when they would get together and that he'd made no attempt to stop them because he knew how ridiculous the idea was in the first place. Finishing his beer, the Captain had got up and left and Blair had kept to his seat, unwilling to move for fear of what he might do or say. 

Of course, Jim had apologised and of course, Blair had let him and once again, the brief hurt had been healed in the waters of their lovemaking. 

But that had been only the seeds of destruction. Over the ensuing month, those seeds grew forth whole forests of dissatisfaction and discontent. Blair, hurting deep where he wouldn't let even Jim see it, had, a week later, deliberately stayed out all night, coming home stinking of booze and smoke - some of it illegal. Jim hadn't said anything and in the morning Blair was woefully sorry for being such an idiot. Happily he blamed himself and set about cooking a special dinner for Jim to make it up to him. Neither of them spoke about it directly - but then Jim was late back for dinner because he had to work and his absence so disappointed Blair he got angry all over again and dumped the whole meal in the bin before Jim got home. 

He went to bed with only his anger as company and fell asleep, forgetting about the whole thing. Jim never joined him and when he awoke, he went downstairs to find the detective on the couch, a blanket over him, dead to the world. 

And in reality, that was when Blair really started to get angry. But it was never a loud anger, no. He kept it banked, storing it each day as Jim made one little mistake after another, ignoring Blair's now half-hearted attempts to put things right. He also ignored all the small things Blair did deliberately, little hurts struck back in frustration, in self-protection. He had to even the score and none of it had any effect. And all the while, Blair had cried silently to himself for Jim to wake up to what was happening, that it was all going wrong, that they really needed some answers desperately now. 

Blair reached the Volvo with his head spinning in memory. The shadows of arguments rattled around inside him, making him dizzy. With a sigh, he climbed into the car and sat there for a moment, deliberately pushing the cobwebs away, focussing on what he had to do. He started the car and pulled out into the road, travelling the short distance to his apartment. But it was with heavy feet that he climbed up the stairs, opened the door. He dropped his backpack and crossed the small distance to the couch. Suddenly tired, he laid down and put an arm across his eyes. 

He'd said he would go out with Jim - and he would. Wanted to. Had to know why Jim had asked him in the first place. But even as a part of his mind worked out what he had to wear, how long it would take him to shower and shave, another part recklessly trickled back to those days when things were no longer so good and in fact, began to get so bad he could still feel the pain now, weeks later. 

Valiantly, he tried to get a hold on it - but it had got a hold on him and relentlessly, he went back again. 

They'd needed answers, yes, answers to end the pain, the fights. But it just went on and on and only ever got worse. Arguments would flare up over the silliest things, with a hard bedrock of supressed discontent neither was willing to bring into the open. Real communication had become impossible, with too much being said and too much not being said. It had seemed easier to attack the superficial things - because the deeper questions were simply too difficult now, too impossible. And when there weren't arguments, there was the silence. Tougher and more impenetrable than anything else. Silences which had left Blair as cold as a glacier. Sex, when they did get around to it, had become almost frantic, as though neither wanted more than release with little of the wonderful afterglow to be shared afterwards. Then came that horrible night when Jim had come home at four in the morning and got into bed drunk, cuddled up to Blair - reeking of women's perfume. For the first time, Blair's tears became real as he lay there next to the slumbering man, wondering how it could have gone from being so wonderful to being so hopelessly awful in such a short time. 

The next day, Blair had declared that he would be sleeping back in his own room and Jim, wise to what he'd done, even though he'd offered no explanation whatsoever, hadn't argued. Blair had moved his clothes while Jim was at work, cleaned the rest of the loft and had tried to pretend that his heart wasn't breaking. Because somewhere during that day he had worked out what was wrong. 

Jim didn't love him. 

Never once, during any of their time together, no matter how quiet and intimate, had Jim ever said anything about love. And yet, it had seemed to be there, between them, unspoken, but real, alive, burning and the centre of all that was wonderful about them being together. 

And yet, Jim had never said a word. He had called Blair sweetheart and baby. He had made love to Blair - rather than just having sex with him. They did almost everything together and Blair had been in no doubt that he was very very important to Jim - but love? 

No, no love. 

And that had been the sharpest pain because Blair had loved Jim deeply, totally and without reserve. For the first time in his life, he was in love with somebody. 

But it had been a love without laughter, love without return and that was too empty even for Blair. 

Blair let out a groan in the silence of his apartment. He didn't want this to happen but it seemed he had no choice. His head was going to remember that night no matter what he did. So, having no choice, he closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it flow back to that night, six weeks ago when his life had fallen apart completely. 

* * *

_Six weeks before_

Jim climbed the steps to the loft slowly. A part of him wanted to turn back for the station, find another excuse to work late - but Blair would have heard the truck pull into the garage and to leave again now would be too obvious, even for him. 

What was he going to say? What could he say? Please, baby, come back to me? Let me hold you and make it all right? 

But he couldn't say those things because he didn't believe them any more. A few weeks ago it might have worked, had worked, but the rift between them was so wide now, no words could bridge the gap. 

He unlocked the door and tossed his keys into the basket. He picked up Blair's familiar heartbeat almost by habit. Blair was in his room, door open, working at his laptop. Jim didn't bother saying hello. They'd gone beyond even the semblance of politeness now. Instead, Jim grabbed himself a beer and sat in front of the TV, flipping channels as nothing grabbed his interest. 

God, he was tired. A tough day, a tough week. Blair had hardly come into the station this week, claiming he had too much on at the university. And the one day he had come in, Jim had zoned for the first time in months - and it had taken Blair almost twenty minutes to pull him out of it. Fortunately, their lives hadn't been in the balance that time - as Jim doubted either of them would have survived if they had. Just another example of their bond breaking down. 

And how long would it be before Blair left him now? How long would it take for Blair to decide that he was better off elsewhere? Somewhere where nobody would expect some kind of commitment from him, where people knew he'd be running off again at the first good offer. 

Jim sucked on his beer and found his gaze returning again and again to that open door. He could see Blair's feet on the end of the bed, the desk and the bookcase on the opposite wall. All messy and untidy and reeking of disorganisation. Christ, how could a person live like that? Never knowing where anything was, never caring, never needing anything so bad he didn't mind not being able to find it? Just the same way Blair lived his entire life. Never needing anything - or anybody. Never stay anywhere he couldn't just up and leave when the mood took him. 

A mild pang of guilt assailed him then and he got up and grabbed another beer to drown it in. 

It wasn't like Blair had shouted a hello at him, either. It was Blair's turn to cook dinner but there was no food in the kitchen, nothing in the fridge. Knowing Blair, he'd just complain that, man he'd been too busy to think about food. Yeah, right, too busy working on his damned dissertation! 

"Hey, Darwin, you gonna eat tonight?" He found himself yelling from the kitchen, way too loud. 

A pause and then a response, "Not hungry. Go ahead and eat if you are." 

Not hungry? Sure. Like the sun doesn't shine in summer and lemons aren't sour. No, the truth was, Blair couldn't stand the sight of Jim any more and Jim knew it. All because he wouldn't come out to the guys at the station. 

Oh, he wasn't so thick he didn't understand that much. But Jim also knew there was a lot more to Blair's demand than he had ever admitted to. Make a statement like that? Declare themselves to the whole world? Why? What difference did it make if anybody else knew? And what was there to tell them now? No, that wasn't all there was to it, but it was all buried behind a wall of concrete Jim was incapable of scaling. Blair had shut him out deliberately, refusing to concede in his heart that telling people might not be a good idea. No, he'd decided to blame Jim and there was nothing else to be done. But hell, Blair should understand that, he should. If he had any sense, if he really cared, if he had any stake in this relationship, he would know it was impossible. Way too impossible. 

He finished off his third beer and started in on the fourth without pausing. Damned anthropologist, testing him, questioning him, using him day after day. And all the time, both of them knowing that when the fucking dissertation was done, Blair would just up and leave him. Just go. Just leave. 

Leave. 

Him. 

Alone. 

Feeling more drunk than four beers would normally warrant, he stumbled towards Blair's room, determined to get a word out of him, a promise, anything that would make him stay when it was all over because for all that he was hurt and angry and afraid and hopelessly lost Jim simply couldn’t contemplate a life where his guide wasn't a part of him. 

He got to the door and stopped, words failing him for a moment. Blair glanced up at him with distaste and suddenly the words flowed out. 

"Yeah, head buried in books again, Chief, like they're your damned life, eh? Mean more to you than I do, don't they?" 

"Well, they don't get drunk as soon as they get home, that's for sure." Blair didn't look up, his voice was cold and distant. "Go away, Jim, I've got work to do." 

"Dissertation?" Jim was absently pleased he could get the word out in one go. 

"Yes. I have a chapter review tomorrow and I'm only half prepared." 

"About me?" 

"You're my main subject study, Jim, of course it's about you." 

"All true, I hope." Jim said the words deliberately to get a reaction, something to get Blair's attention off the computer - and he got it. 

"What did you say?" Blair stared at him with fire in his eyes, lighting Jim's own anger. 

"Well," he waved his beer in the general direction of all the books in the room, "Most of this stuff has to be made up, doesn't it? You're one of them, a scholar. Sure I bet you make some of it up." 

Words designed to hurt, to bruise, to hit back at what he knew was a wall he could never break down because he knew he could never explain in real words just how important this damn man was to him, how Jim… needed him so much. That his move back into this room had wounded Jim so deeply he wasn't sure he was ever going to recover. 

"Get out!" Blair snapped, pushing his computer aside and getting to his feet. "Get out, Jim, before I hit you." 

"Right," Jim laughed. "Like you could do me any damage I'd be afraid of." 

Blair came to a halt in front of him, eyes flashing first with anger and then with a desperation Jim had never seen before. Slowly, Blair began to shake his head. "No. I've had enough." 

"What?" 

"I said, I've had enough." With that, he turned and grabbed his backpack. Jim stood and watched the hunched shoulders as Blair pulled things out of drawers and shoved them into the bag. When that one was full, he started on another until all his clothes were packed. 

"What are you doing?" Panic and satisfaction warred inside Jim, neither one winning out over the other. 

"I'm leaving, Jim. Surely you're not so drunk you can mistake that." 

"Leaving?" 

"Moving out." 

"Why?" 

"I've had enough." 

"Enough?" Jim took a step forward, reaching out but not touching Blair's back. "But…" 

"I'll come back later to pick up the rest of my stuff." He grabbed his laptop, swung the pack over his shoulder, picked up the other bag and pushed past Jim. 

He was at the door before Jim could bring himself to move. "Blair, wait." 

"What for?" 

"Because…" Jim paused, still feet away from Blair, wanting and need so hard in him he couldn’t make sense of anything any more. 

"Jim," Blair murmured firmly, "I just can't do this any more. Really, I can't. What's more, I don't think you want me here. Not now. So go grab yourself another beer and in a few days you can go back to being a straight macho tough cop and forget all about the little fling you had with your weaker roommate who couldn't hurt you if he tried." Blair opened the door but paused, his back to Jim. "And you know, I was right all along. This was the biggest mistake of my life." 

And then he was gone and the best part of Jim went with him. 

* * *

_Present day_  
 _Tuesday_

When had time learned to flow by so slowly? Jim sat at his desk all afternoon, trying not to think about Blair, about how he had asked Blair out to dinner, how Blair had looked sitting in the park today. He distracted himself with going through files, making phone calls, responding when spoken to, but everything dragged, as though going in slow motion. All but his thoughts. 

Each minute dripped by, like honey falling from a spoon. It took an age to form large enough to drop, then did so agonizingly, leaving behind it a trail. Then longer again for another to form and drop. Minute after minute until sixty of these made up a single hour. And still so many of those to go by before he could leave. 

And then, eventually, after twenty four hundred drops of honey, Simon was calling him, wondering if he was going to sit there all night. Jim glanced up to see the big man standing over him. The bullpen was virtually empty and Simon's expression framed by sincerity. 

"You okay?" 

"Sure. Why?" 

Simon shrugged, "Just that you've been sitting there for an hour without moving and that's long even for you. Where's the kid?" 

"Rainier. Had work to do." 

Simon nodded and turned to go back to his office - but paused. "Everything okay on that score?" 

"What do you mean?" Jim stood, collecting his cell phone. 

"Nothing. Just that, well, I thought maybe Sandburg had gotten a little bored with his research. He hasn't been in much the last couple of months." 

"Yeah," Jim managed a cynical laugh. "You could be right. 'Night." 

"Good night, Jim." 

And then he was down in the carpark and getting into the truck to put his head on the steering wheel for just a second. That's all he could afford. The traffic was pretty light and he made it home in record time. Without pausing, he raced upstairs and pulled out his best suit, a shirt of brilliant white that Blair had once said made his eyes look so good. Then, knowing he was going to need it more now than later, he poured himself a stiff scotch and downed it in one mouthful. Only then did he head for the shower. 

He stood under the spray a long time, long after the soap had drained away. He just wanted to feel the water on his body, it's softness, as seductive in its own way as Blair Sandburg's hands. 

Abruptly realising where his thoughts were headed, he turned the heat off and stood under the cold for a full minute before getting out. The fan had cleared most of the steam and he stood before the mirror, soaping his face to shave. He looked back at himself, cool, blue-eyed, steely - before breaking into a stupid grin. 

"You're an idiot, Ellison, if you think this is going to work." 

_Well, it has to, doesn't it?_ The mirror image grinned back. _Because if it doesn't, you're going to lose him completely._

"What do you mean, lose him completely?" 

_He moved out, didn't he? Lives on the other side of town. About as far from you as possible without actually leaving Cascade._

"But that's the only place he could find an apartment he could afford." 

_Sure. And you went to such great pains to stop him, didn't you?_

Jim paused with his razor in the air, half his face shaved. He stared at those grey-blue eyes with as much hardness as he could manage. "He's still going to leave me? When he's finished his dissertation?" 

_You know he is. After all, why should he stay longer? He's a drifter, Jimbo - and that means he moves around, he leaves places - places like Cascade. Oh, he'll get some exciting post in Brazil or Colombia and then he'll be off and he'll never come back. He's too devoted to his work, to anthropology, too passionate about it to happily pass it up for anything you could offer him. Besides, he's already left you, hasn't he? Or, to be brutally truthful here, you kicked him out._

"I didn't kick him out!" Jim shouted at himself. "I… I…" 

_You let him go._

"I didn't want him to be unhappy. And he was unhappy with me. Hell, I was unhappy with him!" 

_Then why do you want to get him back?_

"Because I… can't let him go. I can't…" 

_You can't… what?_

Jim stared at himself in silence, counting each beat of his own heart to stop himself from panicking that Blair's wasn't close enough. 

_Oh, come on. You have to admit it one day._

"Admit what?" 

_God, even after all this time - when you're in the middle of some mad scheme to get him back, you still won't admit it._

"Admit what?" 

_No, you can't possibly be that blind. I refuse to believe it. You're just trying to annoy me._

"Will you just spit it out!" 

_I could say the same for you. You know exactly what I'm talking about._

Jim groaned, irritated properly now. "Spell it out for me." 

_You're in love with Blair._

Jim started. "What?" 

_You're desperately, hopelessly and permanently in love with the kid. Just admit it._

"Are you sure?" 

_Positive. It's love alright. Bad case. Hey, do you honestly think, that after everything you two have been through that you would seriously consider doing all you could to get him back - if you didn't love him? A lot? Come, on, Jimbo, you're not that thick. You're deeply in love with Blair Sandburg. Live with it._

Totally out of his depth, Jim shook his head slowly, "But I…" 

_You screwed up. He screwed up. But you still love him. You know you do. What's more, you need him._

Jim stopped at that, placing the razor down on the sink. Slowly, he shook his head, "And he needs me." 

_You got it._

"But… does he love me?" 

_Hell, Jimbo, you know I'm just your subconscious talking to you. How should I know whether he loves you or not? That's something we'll both find out at the same time - admittedly, I'll probably find out before you - but the time difference will only be measurable in milliseconds. Come on, Sunny-Jim, finish shaving, put on your best duds and go and get him. Take the big leap off the cliff and see what's down in the valley. You never know, it might not be as bad as you imagine._

"Or it might be worse." 

_Hah, that's the kid talking. Just do it Jim, like Mr Nike says. But I'll warn you._

Jim started shaving again, rattled by this weird conversation, but determined to cope, "What?" 

_Don't even think about bringing him back here. Don't let yourself entertain for one second, any ideas about getting him into bed tonight. That will get you nowhere._

"Well, I wouldn't say nowhere…" 

Harsh laughter, not unkind. _Okay, that's a given - but I mean it. If you think you're ready to do this, you have to be prepared to do it right - and that means no sex._

"None?" 

_Not a whisker._

Jim happily met the gaze of his other self in the mirror - and nodded. "Right. No sex." 

* * *

Tuesday night 

Blair was on time and waiting for him when he pulled up in the truck. Jim was about to get out and go upstairs - but Blair waved at him from the window and a minute later, was sauntering towards him, the very picture of cool indifference and absolutely breathtaking in his crisp white shirt and dinner suit. He got in beside Jim, did up his seatbelt and proceeded to stare straight ahead. 

Stifling a sigh at the missing enthusiasm, Jim put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the road. 

Blair had tied his hair back. 

As Jim drove to the restaurant where he'd begged and cajoled a late reservation, he couldn't decide whether the leather thong holding the unruly locks in place was a defensive gesture - or one of peace. Either way, it gave him a better view of Blair's face - and for that, he was glad. He had to see it - because none of his supposedly superior senses gave him one jot of additional information on Blair's state of mind. 

The restaurant was expensive - and the kind of place only truly wealthy people went to. Jim had decided on it on impulse. He could afford it - and, as out of place as Blair might feel, Blair would also know that Jim would feel equally out of place. It wasn't exactly neutral ground - but more a level playing field. 

But for all his efforts, the night didn't go too well. Blair didn't appear willing to make any effort to talk and so long uncomfortable silences were punctuated with comments on the food or whether they should order another bottle of wine. After the first hour, Jim was ready to scream - except that that was about the last thing he would ever do - especially in front of Blair. 

And Blair wasn't really even there with him. Through the night, Jim began to pander to the idea of alien abduction again as his normally talkative partner kept quiet - even after genuine attempts on Jim's part to ask him about his studies, about anthropology - anything. As the waiter brought dessert, Blair sat back and laced his fingers together - a gesture wholly unlike the man Jim knew. 

"I tell you what, Jim," Blair began in a level voice. "Rather than you continuing to go around in circles trying to engage me in conversation, why don't you just talk?" 

"Me?" 

"Yeah," a hint of a smile was crushed immediately. "You. Talk." 

"About what?" 

"I don't mind. You choose." 

What was that supposed to mean? Did Blair want him to talk about them? About what went wrong? What? 

No, he couldn't go near any of that without touching on things so raw he would scream with pain - Blair along with him. But he did begin to speak. Talking about his life in the army, his father, Stephen. It felt horribly awkward but he knew he had to do it - so he did. 

And suddenly the hours dropped away until they were the only ones left in the dining room except for a bunch of business men at a long table by the other wall. Jim had long since paid the bill and they'd had one too many coffees. That's when Blair nodded, put his napkin on the table and said, "I think it's time I was getting home." 

"Yeah, right." So Jim took him home, coming to a stop outside Blair's apartment. Jim had never even been inside so had no mental picture of where Blair was going and that bothered him. 

Blair undid his seatbelt and opened his door. 

"Chief?" 

"Yeah?" 

What should he say? Why did he suddenly feel like a gawky teenager, utterly tied up with words? The night had been a complete failure and yet, he didn't want to leave it like this. "Would you… er… like to go for a walk?" 

"Not at this hour, thanks." Blair turned to get out but again, Jim stopped him, the burning question firing his resolve. 

"You busy tomorrow night?" 

"Why?" 

"Thought we could go somewhere for dinner again." 

"I don't think that's a good idea, do you?" 

And something like a ton of lead fell into the pit of Jim's stomach. 

No, he wasn't going to lose Blair - he already had. In the kid's head, he'd already finished his dissertation and was on the plane, flying away. He was gone, gone… 

But Jim, valiant as he was, tried one last time. "There's… a Jags game on Friday. Rafe's offered me tickets. Thought we could go together." 

Blair jumped down and pushed the door closed. Then he leaned inside and with no expression on his face, said, "Okay." 

Then without another word, he turned and headed into the shadows of his building. Jim kept track of him from nothing more than habit, until he could hear a front door close behind the man and locks set. 

Safe and sound. 

Then Jim let out the clutch and began the long drive back to his empty loft. 

* * *

Friday 

Three days until Friday. Three long, long long days. Not one of them had Blair Sandburg in them and so they were long, long long days. He had term papers to grade, next semester's lessons to plan and since Jim didn't have anything pressing for him to do at the station, Blair stayed away. 

But only a few months ago, a situation like that wouldn't have kept the kid away. It wouldn't have made any damn difference. 

So why had he agreed to go to the game? Was he toying with Jim? Reeling him out like a big fish only to cut the line? Was he trying to make Jim pay? 

They'd spoken only once. Jim had called him to arrange pick up. The voice on the phone had been noncomittal, agreeing to arrangements without fuss. Then the conversation ended. 

So Jim waited the three days, rolling around in the kind of hell a person can create only for themselves. Friday afternoon before the game was the worst. He sat on his bed for hours, not looking at anything, not doing anything. He didn't even answer the phone when it rang. 

Too likely to be Blair calling to cancel. 

Why had he not seen it? The moment when he'd fallen in love? Why had be been so blind? 

Perhaps because he was afraid of the consequences? But how could those consequences be any worse than what he had now? Now, he had nothing but memories. Shards of life splinted together, desperately trying to form a whole. Was this what Blair had done to him? 

God, he got so angry some days - and these days it was getting harder and harder to hold some control over it. Never before in his life had he had so much trouble controlling his emotions. Only when his senses had gone haywire, the time when he'd first met Blair, had he tottered so close to the edge. But back then, Blair had insinuated himself into Jim's life, saving his life, saving his sanity. Now, Blair was driving him over the edge with a malicious laugh. 

Did Blair hate him? 

Had Jim pushed him so hard, the Guide now hated his Sentinel? 

Jim sucked in a breath and fell back onto the bed. Absently, he grabbed a pillow and held it close, sniffing deeply of the fresh cotton in the vain hope something of Blair's comforting scent still lingered, so long after. 

Two months now since Blair had moved back to his own room. More than six weeks since he'd moved out altogether. After the door had shut on Blair, Jim had stood in the kitchen, dazed and no longer even remotely drunk - even though he so desperately needed to be. He'd stood there maybe an hour - and then he'd turned and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Shock, fatigue and alcohol had driven him into slumber. 

But the next morning he'd woken, disorientated and confused to find himself in Blair's bed downstairs, a momentary panic assailing him as he realised his guide's heartbeat was nowhere near. 

And then strident memory, stark in all it's bold simplicity had struck him to his soul and he'd rolled up in Blair's blankets and wept like a child. 

Yes, he should have seen he was in love - even then. Should have known he would never behave like that unless it was so important. But for so long he'd believed that love was what he'd felt for Carolyn \- and this was so entirely different. Of course, the truth was, harsh but consistent, that perhaps he'd never actually been in love with Carolyn. Perhaps he'd never known what love really felt like until he'd met Blair. 

As the sunlight began to dim outside the loft, Jim stared out the window, mentally counting the hours until his second date with Blair, the minutes left until he could see the man again, sense something of his presense, sit beside him at the Jags game. Something, anything. Right now, just being near him was so very important. 

Jim groaned and rolled over on the bed, closing his eyes and trying not to remember the days following that night Blair moved out. He'd thought the weeks before had been bad, thought the morning howling his agony into Blair's sheets was the worst he could feel. But he'd found out to his surprise, that the situation had every ability to get worse. A lot worse. 

But if he'd been blind to his falling in love - he'd also been blind to how easily he could make it worse, and the final downhill ride began the day he finally tracked down where Blair had moved to, nine days after the loft was empty of him. 

Jim had tried, but he'd been unable to keep away. He'd spent the whole of one night, sitting in his truck, staring at the first floor apartment, at the door covered by shadows, hoping, like the great idiot he was, that Blair would somehow know he was down there and come back to him. 

But as the days went by, there was no sign of Blair and in the end, Jim had no choice. He went straight to Rainier and straight into hell. 

* * *

_Four weeks before_

Jim was a Sentinel. He knew it, Blair knew it - so why was Jim surprised when Blair didn't notice him standing at the office door. Surely by now some of his hypersenses had worn off on his Guide. Surely Blair could hear the thudding in Jim's chest, be aware of it, worried by it. 

Something. 

Swallowing heavily, Jim stopped himself from staring too intently at the hunched shoulders covered by the usual plaid shirt, the long curls draped across the face, the gaze intent on the laptop before him. Two weeks since Blair had rushed out of the loft and Jim hadn't seen him once in all that time. An eternity. No, he simply cleared his throat - silently - and murmured, "Hey, Chief?" 

Blair froze - then his head shot up, his eyebrows raised. "Jim? What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." Jim didn't enter the room. He just stayed right where he was, not sure now what he wanted to say - nor for that matter, if he could actually bring himself to say it. Abjectly, he raised a hand, indicating the room in general, as though it had some point to why he was there. "I thought you might like some lunch." 

"Lunch?" 

"Yeah. Maybe we could talk." 

Blair's gaze narrowed and he sat back in his seat, his hands still on the desk, "About what?" 

Jim tried to suppress a sigh - and failed, "About us. About what happened. I think we should talk." 

"I don't see the point." Blair shook his head and let his gaze return to the screen. But Jim was a Sentinel and he could smell the faint touch of fear in the air, hear the increase in blood pressure, the heart beat. 

"Well, we don't have to have lunch if you don't want to. But we do need to talk." 

"I think we've already said enough to each other, Jim, now please go. I have work to do." 

For a moment, Jim saw red - but he pulled in his reaction enough to ask a question, evenly, hiding what he felt. "The dissertation?" 

"Yeah." 

"Do you…" Blair glanced up and Jim continued, "I mean, how's it going?" 

"Fine." 

"But," Jim's guts twisted inside and he went on, knowing the answer was only going to make him feel worse - but the perverse part of his nature needed to hear that worst, so he continued, "you haven't been around for a while. Do you have all the data you need?" 

Blair swallowed, folded his arms and looked elsewhere, "I'll have the final draft written inside a fortnight, Jim, so you don't have to worry about any more irritating tests." 

"Oh," Jim murmured, winded and unable to react any other way. "That's great. And your review board? They like it?" 

"Wild about it." 

"Great." 

"So," Blair went on, merciless now, "I'm out of your hair for good" 

"And that's it?" A hint of bitterness couldn't be kept out of Jim's voice now. 

"Pretty much, yeah. Why?" Blair kept his gaze carefully averted and Jim wanted to throw him up against the wall as he'd done the first time they'd met. 

So he did the next best thing. "So you're finished with me and you're prepared to leave me high and dry - like you've done since we started to fall apart. Well, Chief, that's just great, you know? Just fucking great! Now you don't need my contribution to your dissertation, my ability to control my senses doesn't matter to you at all. Right. Fine. Should have known that from the beginning. But like an idiot, I thought we were partners, I thought we were friends!" He turned and would have stalked down the hall if Blair hadn't sprung from the desk and grabbed his arm. 

"Jim, wait!" 

"What for? So you can repeat how meaningless I am to you? No thanks. I've had enough of that already. You want me out of you life? Great, I'm gone." 

"Jim stop!" Blair wouldn't let go of his arm and planted his feet. Jim whirled around and only just stopped himself in time from hitting the smaller man. "Please, Jim, just come inside for a minute." 

Those huge blue eyes pleaded with him and abruptly lost, Jim allowed his anger to drift, allowed himself to be pulled into the small office. Blair however, didn't go so far as to close the door. Instead, he paced the room for a minute, as though Jim wasn't there. Then he stopped, hands on his hips and faced Jim. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? Sorry I haven't been to the station for a while but hey, man, you know, it's been pretty tough these last two weeks since I moved out. And I guess I thought maybe you'd be glad of a bit of peace." 

"And the other one's got bells on it, Sandburg. Is that the best you can come up with?" 

Blair's eyes spitted fire, "Don't start, Jim! Just don't start. I don't want another fight with you, okay? Yeah, the truth is I don't want to be anywhere near you right now and with the things you say, can you blame me? Every time we talk these days, all we end up doing is shouting at each other. Well, it's too much for me. I can't live like that so unless you can learn to be civil, no I won't be at the station for a while." 

"Jingle, jingle." Jim grunted. "No, Sandburg, the truth is, I'm not your research subject any more so you couldn't give a damn either way. I get the message. You're right, we don't have anything more to say to each other." 

"Jim, I won't desert you!" 

"You already have!" 

"Christ, do you really think I'd just leaving you hanging?" 

"You're not listening - you already have!" 

For a second, Blair appeared to be about to say something else but then paused, a small frown appearing. Then abruptly he took a step forward, "Shit, Jim, are you saying you've zoned?" 

"Now why would I say that, Sandburg? After all, you're the one this has been tough on. Why in gods name would I zone?" Jim sank against the wall and closed his eyes. They were stinging and he no longer wanted to look at the man before him. 

"I'm sorry, Jim." 

"Yeah, right." 

"I am. Look," Blair took in a breath, trying to calm himself and judging by his heartbeat, having more success than Jim. "I am sorry, honestly, but I have been trying to get my diss finished and you didn't seem to need me down the station and hell, you've pretty much had a handle on your senses over the last few months. I guess I didn't think too much about it, okay?" 

Slowly, Jim opened his eyes and let them rest on Blair. It wasn't much of a truce - but it was about all he was going to get today. "Okay." 

"Jim," Blair moved a little closer and stopped. "I know you might find this hard to believe - but I do take my role as Guide very seriously. I'm sorry I've stuffed up recently. It won't happen again. I know things between us are pretty bad - but if you need me, I'll be there. I promise. I wouldn't ever let you down." 

You've already done that and more, Chief. You hate me. What else is there? 

But Jim just let out a held breath and found himself nodding. "Okay." And then because he wanted to say more but couldn't find the words, he added, "We need to work something out or this whole thing is going to fall flat on its face some time when there's bullets flying." 

"Yeah." Blair nodded, calm now, swallowing. 

"So… so we need to talk. Tonight." 

"No," Blair started. "Not tonight. Tomorrow night. I'll come to the loft." 

"Why not tonight?" 

"I'm busy." 

Oh, too busy to settle things, make some kind of peace. Sure, Jim could see that - through a new haze of red. "Fine. Tomorrow night. But not at the loft." 

"Okay." 

"Here - or your place." 

"Here." 

"Okay." Jim wanted to say more, stay longer, anything, nothing, everything. Shit, he was just so damned confused he didn't know what the fuck he wanted any more. So he turned and left, striding down the corridor like a blind man, the only image left in his mind, that of Blair Sandburg's face and that momentary look of concern over them meeting tonight. 

* * *

Blair found his legs shaking as he listened to Jim walk away. A little unsteadily, he sank into the comfortable chair before his desk and put his head in his hands. 

God, why did the man have to make it so hard? Couldn't he just let go? Let it rest for a while and maybe somehow, let them find their old friendship? 

But no, Jim had to keep pushing and pushing, never giving Blair enough room to catch his breath, to work out what he should do. 

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. This was never going to work. Never. The only solution was for him to leave Cascade and be done with it. He could give Simon enough information to help Jim avoid zoning - and then just leave. Knew he had to now. 

Sitting back, he caught sight of the phone and for a moment, considered calling and cancelling his plans for the evening. He was no longer sure he could carry on a normal conversation right now, not sure he wanted to be around anybody. But the alternative was sitting at home in his cold apartment, on his own, brooding over the biggest mistake he'd ever made in his entire life. Brooding over the loss of something he'd not realised had meant so much to him until he'd lost it. 

No, he wouldn't cancel. He wouldn't be much in the way of company, but he wouldn't cancel. He needed the distraction, a chance to clear his mind so he could get on and finish his work. If he was lucky, it was possible he could get out of Cascade inside two months, perhaps less. 

Eight long weeks. If he could survive that long. 

* * *

The night was cold, like hell should have been. Freezing cold, icy, blistering cold that burned right through the steering wheel and into Jim's hands like it had some kind of magical power over him, turning him to stone. But it wasn't the cold that was suffocating him - it was the sight arranged before him across the street, beneath the light outside Blair's apartment. 

Sure, he'd come and sat here tonight, unsurprised at first to find Blair not home. After all, he'd said he was busy, right? Busy? Doing something? 

So Jim had waited, like a fool, like a great big blind idiot. Thick, blind and stupid. No wonder Blair didn't want him any more. Who would? He'd made one mistake after another, thrown away the most precious thing in his entire life - for a myriad of reasons he could barely name let alone understand. And now he had confirmation of just how big a fool he'd been all this time. 

Blair had come home. In a car driven by somebody else. Must have left the Volvo at Rainier. So Blair had come home in a car which had parked before Blair's door. Then Blair had got out, laughing, talking to his companion. 

A man. 

Taller, broader, laughing too. His face striking in the streetlight. He'd locked the car and thrown his arm around Blair's shoulder - 

And Jim gripped his cellphone so hard the casing snapped. 

The man pressed his face into Blair's neck as Blair unlocked his door. Shrugging the man off, he led him inside and up the stairs. Jim followed the heartbeat until it reached the first floor, until lights came on in what he thought was the living room. He had no idea how long he sat there watching, waiting - but it was long enough to see the lights go off until there was only a soft glow behind the curtains. 

Going for full card-carrying status in the Idiot's Guild, he tuned up his hearing to listen for what was going on. 

But only for a second. 

Then abruptly he was switching the key, gunning the truck into gear and tearing off down the street. He only saw the corner at the last minute, swerving madly to avoid hitting a car. Only then, because he knew he'd kill some innocent person if he wasn't careful, only then did he slow down. Not much, but enough to get him home in one piece. 

He reached the loft a tower of incandescent fury and self-hatred. He stormed into Blair's old room, empty now but for a few cardboard boxes. He stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching, unaware of how he was starving his lungs of air. 

"Damn it, Blair," he hissed into the darkness. "You're mine! Mine!" 

And he whirled back into the living room and snatched up the phone. Without pausing, he dialled Blair's number and let it ring until it was answered. 

"Blair?" 

"Jim? What is it?" Breathless voice on the other end. Yeah, why not be breathless? Why not be any fucking thing he wanted. Always what Blair wanted. Every single day. Blair wanted them to get together, wanted them to split up, wanted his way into Jim's life in the first place and now wanted out. 

"Tomorrow night?" Jim grunted. 

"Yeah?" 

"Forget it. I've changed my mind." Jim's voice sounded horribly normal to him and idly, a part of him was amazed that he could perform such sorcery. "I was wrong. I don't need you. Not sure I ever did. Sorry, but I think I was just using you. You go ahead and finish that dissertation and become a doctor just like you wanted. It's what you deserve." He moved the phone to slam it back in the cradle but he heard Blair's voice, and knowing he was going for his own doctorate in stupidity now, he brought it back to listen. 

"Jim? Jim? What the hell's going on? Are you okay?" 

"I am perfectly fine. You go ahead and enjoy your evening. Goodbye, Sandburg." 

"Jim, wait, please… What do you mean, enjoy my evening…. Oh, Christ…. Oh, shit!" 

That perverse part of Jim kept the phone to his ear now, enjoying this knife, twisting it hard, squeezing the pleasure/pain for all it was worth. 

Which was quite a lot considering. 

"Shit, Jim… were you here?" 

"What difference does it make, Sandburg? It's your life. Do with it what you will." 

"But what did you see… god, what could you have seen… oh god, oh god, Jesus, Jim you don't know…" 

"Like I said, it's your life." Jim replied, amazingly lightly. Like he didn't care at all. Like he didn't feel like his guts had been ripped out because of all the people Blair could rebound into, it had to be another man. "Go on, I don't want to disturb you any longer." 

"But Jim, I have to know - how long were you out there?" 

"Long enough." 

"No, that's the point, it wasn't long enough. Shit, Jim, just wait there. I'm coming over." 

"No, don't." A hard edge had crept into Jim's voice now and the last thing he wanted - yes, the absolutely very last thing he wanted in this world was to see Blair Sandburg now, with the scent of another man all over him. 

"Then you come back here. Now." 

"No." 

"Jim, you have to!" 

"I don't have to do anything you tell me any more, Sandburg. I don't belong to you. I don't give a fuck what you're doing - or who you're fucking so just get the hell out of my life!" And with that, Jim did slam down the phone. 

For long seconds, he teetered on the edge of hysteria - before he sank to the floor and curled up in a ball. 

* * *

It was a week after that phonecall before Blair could bring himself to do anything. A whole week during which he must have gone over that night a thousand times, trying desperately to work out exactly what Jim could have seen to make him react like that. 

Pete. Sweet, gentle, kind. They'd met a few months before in the University bookshop. Pete had asked him out on that first meeting but then, Blair had still been with Jim and had thanked him but turned him down. 

But what had Jim seen that night… 

The day before, Pete, knowing things had gone bad between Jim and Blair had asked Blair out again and this time, without really thinking about it, Blair had agreed. So they had gone out. And again the following night. The night Jim had been waiting. 

He remembered getting out of the car just after Pete had told that terrible joke. He remembered laughing at it on his way to the door. He remembered Pete throwing an arm around his shoulders and doing his best to kiss Blair's neck - despite Blair's attempts all through the evening to explain to the man that he really wasn’t ready for anything like that yet. But Pete had been so nice and the night had been so relaxing and Blair had needed it so much that he'd not been as forceful as he probably should have been so when he'd pushed Pete away before he unlocked the door, the other man hadn't really believed his desire to wait. 

God, he'd been so scared taking the man up for coffee - but at the same time, he'd known he had to do it, sometime. It wasn't so much that he needed the physical comfort of sex - but he'd needed to feel a man's arms around him, even for just a few minutes. And Pete had wanted him - just as Jim didn't want him - and he needed to feel wanted. 

So he'd taken Pete up, knowing he was leading the other man on and knowing he'd never go through with it and he'd made coffee and they'd sat on the floor together and he'd let Pete talk to him softly, let the sound of his voice lull him into feeling secure and he'd let Pete touch him and draw him closer and suddenly he did want it, needed it, desperately, raggedly and he'd risen to turn out the lights because he'd known he'd never be able to do it in that brightness because then he'd know it wasn't Jim. And Pete had held him and told him how much he wanted to make love to Blair and Pete had touched his face so gently and then had kissed him so sweetly that Blair had begun to cry. Huge great tears falling uncontrolled down his face and Pete had just held him, understanding and knowing and no longer pushing him, just making him feel as though somebody cared enough about him to hold him while he hurt so damned bad. 

And then later, when Blair had calmed, Pete had kissed him softly and said goodnight, letting himself out, leaving Blair to his thoughts and the block of concrete filling his chest. He'd sat on the floor for a while, knowing that some time he'd have to get up, then making himself get up and then the phone rang and it was Jim. 

Only it wasn't Jim any more. It was some horrible creature he'd never known before, created in the depths of anger and betrayal, of rage and jealousy and Blair just knew that it was all his fault. All of it, from the very beginning. It wasn't Jim's fault he couldn't love Blair - but Blair had wanted it that way and because he couldn't have it, he'd thrown the kind of tantrum only a child throws, expecting, somehow, to be able to control the man enough to get what he wanted in the end. 

But Jim hadn't been some _thing_ he could manipulate and he'd fought back and that, of all things was what Blair couldn't deal with. 

So it had taken him a week to think about it, run it through, knowing at last what Jim had seen and heard and knowing that even though they'd broken up, Jim had every right to feel betrayed, angry and everything else - because deep down inside, Blair knew what Jim didn't know, that he was planning to leave, to desert Jim. In the end, it was the guilt that made him write the note and send it to the station. Nothing much, just a few words on a piece of paper. Words saying that they had to meet up, to talk. To get things settled. 

The note was the only way he could do it. If he'd called, he knew Jim wouldn't talk to him. If he'd just turned up at the loft, Jim would have heard him coming and simply not opened the door. 

So he said they should meet outside the station and have lunch in the café across the road. 

There were thunderous clouds that day, boding ill for his hopes. But Blair turned up on time and only had to wait ten minutes before Jim emerged from the building, his face a mask of absolutely nothing. His gaze raked over Blair once then nodded. 

Together they crossed the road and took a table at the back of the café, away from the street and whatever distractions Blair thought might take Jim from him. 

"So?" Jim began, sending little more than a glance at the menu. "What do you want to talk about?" 

Blair swallowed and kept his hands beneath the table. "Me coming back to work." 

"Oh? Why?" 

The waiter came up then and Blair ordered a sandwich he didn't want \- and a coffee he needed desperately. Jim ordered a full meal and when it arrived, launched into it like he didn't have a care in the world. 

Blair spooned five sugars into his coffee, feeling a sudden need for what that would do to him. He settled again and leaned forward slightly, keeping his voice low, knowing Jim would be able to hear him. "I want to go back to work, Jim." 

"And what makes you think I want you to?" 

"Look -" 

"What?" 

Blair felt that piercing gaze on him, shot a glance around the café then turned back to Jim. "No shouting, okay? Just this once? Please?" 

Jim's jaw clenched and he nodded, once, short. 

Blair continued, "I don't want to go into details right now but you know this has been rough on both of us, right?" 

"Whatever you say, Sandburg." 

Resisting the temptation to both roll his eyes - and slap Jim's face, Blair went on doggedly, "I'm worried about you zoning. I miss work and hell, Jim, surely we're both adult enough to find some common ground." 

"Oh, sure, we've got a lot of common ground," Jim hissed so softly, Blair thought he might need sentinel hearing after all. "We've both discovered an interest in men." 

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Blair caught in his lip and instantly hushed his own voice, not wanting to see the look on Jim's face when it turned out he was the one who was shouting. "Well, you don't," he repeated quietly. "I know you've jumped to a whole host of conclusions but the truth is, nothing happened." 

At that, Jim leaned in close, "What makes you think I give a damn if it did?" 

"Nothing happened, Jim." Blair persisted. "I got upset, I cried on his shoulder and he left. End of story. Except that you then rang and made it worse." 

" _I_ made it worse?" Jim inquired idly, as though he'd just detected a bug in his lettuce. "Interesting way of putting it. Especially since I'd offered to talk that night and let's face it, it could have been my shoulder you could have cried on. But no, you had to go almost out of my bed and into the arms of some guy who just couldn't wait to screw you." 

"What?" Blair whispered, shocked and horrified at the same time. 

Jim met his gaze unflinchingly. "I stayed long enough to hear that much. Come on, Sandburg, I know I'm not on your genius level, but I'm not that dumb." 

"Nothing happened." Blair could only repeat himself. 

"Okay," Jim sat back, finished with his meal and wiping his hands on the serviette. "So, nothing happened. I believe you. Not that it makes any difference. What I don't understand is what this has to do with you returning to work." 

"Jim, can't you just - " 

"What?" 

Let down your walls for a moment? Let me see why you're hurting so bad? Can't you see we just keep hurting each other like this? Do you want to live in this hell forever? 

But why would Jim let down his walls? He'd never done that - no, not even for Blair. No, if there was anything to be rescued from this hopeless situation, Blair would have to let down his own walls first. 

Abruptly fearful, but knowing he had no choice, Blair said, "Jim, this isn't some game we're playing here. You're my best friend. About the only real friend I've ever had in my entire life. Even if we… ruined what we had together, can't we do what you said, and let our friendship absorb a little of it? You said we were strong enough to take it if it turned out us being together was a mistake. I'm asking you now, Jim, please, let's make an effort. We've been working together for three years, going on for four. We were the best of friends. Doesn't that count for anything?" 

For a moment, Blair was afraid his plea had fallen on stonily deaf ears. At least, that was what it looked like in Jim's eyes. But after a few brief heartbeats, Jim's gaze dropped and some of the stiffness left his shoulders. Almost inaudibly, he murmured, "Yeah, it does. At least, it used to." 

"And it still can," Blair went on, not yet daring to hope. "If we try. We can be friends again. It won't be easy 'cause we've got a lot of unresolved stuff between us, but hell, Jim, I think we're worth it." 

"And if we're not?" Jim didn't look up but his voice told Blair volumes about how he felt. 

Like the devil creeping up behind him, his feelings betrayed him for a moment as a tender warmth spread across his heart, unfreezing things he thought he'd never see again. 

God, Jim if only you knew how much I love you. I love you so much I'd do anything for you even give you up if I have to. "If we're not, then at least we'll know we tried. And if it doesn't work, then it can't be worse than it is now - and maybe it'll end up being a bit better. Please, Jim." 

The older man was silent a long time during which Blair could read nothing of the face turned towards the table so adamantly. But eventually a nod broke the mould and words came out. "Okay. We'll try. I… want to try, Blair. You're right - as usual. Just…" 

"What?" 

Jim finally looked up, "We need a few ground rules, okay?" 

"Sure." Blair agreed readily, relief flooding through him, threatening to sweep him off his chair. "What did you have in mind?" 

"We keep all personal comments to a minimum. We spend as little time alone as physically possible. And…" He paused, swallowing hard. "I don't want to hear a word about your love life." 

But I don't have one without you, Jim. "Sure, man, that's fine." He nodded - mostly to stop himself from crying. "And if you have any problems with your senses, you got to promise me you'll call me - no matter what. Okay?" 

Jim seemed to think about this for a moment, then another nod. "Okay." Slowly he got to his feet and fished in his pocket for some bills. He dropped them on the table and glanced at the door. But he didn't leave - at least, not immediately. Then, to Blair's surprise, he said, "Look, Chief, I'm sorry, okay? I really didn't have any right to act the way I did. I mean, we've broken up so it really is no business of mine whether you slept with that guy or not. I know you say nothing happened but that's not the point. The point is, it's got nothing to do with me, so I'm sorry. And," He paused again and Blair took the opportunity to get to his feet. Jim seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts, then without a word, he took Blair's elbow and led him out onto the street. But then he just stood there, saying nothing and Blair had to prompt him. 

"What were you going to say?" 

Jim shrugged, his gaze on the station across the road. "Nothing - just that, I'm sorry you had to make this move. I know it must have been hard. But, I'm glad you did, you know?" 

Blair simply nodded, making Jim look at him again, so vulnerable it was all Blair could do to stop himself taking the man into his arms. 

But then Jim was speaking again, his voice soft and sad against the traffic. "Sometimes, I really wish I had your strength. Your courage." And then he was gone with a wave of his hand, across the road and into the station, leaving Blair on the sidewalk, standing straight, while every part inside him rattled in a swirling tumble of confusion. 

* * *

_Present day_  
 _Friday_

The clock downstairs ticked its way into Jim's distracted mind and for a long time he simply laid on his bed, listening to the simplicity of that sound, repetitive, even, predictable. A pale comfort to replace the sound of a heart beat he still missed every day. 

Blair had indeed gone back to work after that lunch a month ago - two, sometimes three days a week. At first, it had felt a little awkward but then they'd come across a really tough case and the distraction had been enough for them to put aside a lot of their problems. 

And they'd pretty much kept to the ground rules. Jim was having trouble with his senses and he did call Blair but they kept it all very professional and Jim had found some comfort in that. Even though he knew it was all temporary. There had been in Blair something of a man keeping time, waiting until he could be free of a prison of Jim's making. 

Their conversations had been okay, too. Talking only about work or the Jags. No word was mentioned about Blair's dissertation and while a part of him had been grateful, the rest of him felt like a man on the chopping block, simply waiting for the axe to fall. 

The day would come, soon, and then Blair would have what he wanted and then Blair would leave him for good. 

And Jim knew that when that day came, his world would end. That was why he'd taken the chance in the park the other day and asked Blair out. When Blair had broken ground rule number one and asked him what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Because he just had to try, at least once. If once was all he was going to get, he had to try. So he had asked Blair out and taken him to that resturant and it had all been a big mess - but now he was taking Blair out to a Jags game and wasn't it worth just one more try? 

With a groan, he hauled himself off the bed and downstairs into the bathroom. As he stopped before the mirror, he spent a moment staring at the face looking back at him. This time, the face didn't open the conversation. Jim had to do that himself. 

"What do you think of my chances?" 

_Not good._

"Don’t spare me." 

_Why should I? If you wanted sparing, you wouldn't have asked._

"So why is he going out with me?" 

A shrug. _I don't know. Maybe he feels sorry for you._

"So what do I do?" 

_What do you think you should do?_

"I don't know! That's why I'm asking you! Christ, when did my subconscious get so damned obtuse?" 

_The day you let the man out of your life, you twit! It's no good yelling at me. To be honest, it's no good yelling at all. Look, I know you're in pain - don't I feel it along with you? But you got yourself into this and really, I can't help you get out of it. If you really want him back, you just have to keep working at it until you find the right things to say, the right things to do because if you don't, we'll regret it for the rest of your miserable life. And I don't need to be your subconscious to tell you that._

"Yeah, I know, I know." Jim rubbed his hands over his face and was unsurprised to find the mirror not copying him. "But hell, I can't just come out and tell him how I feel." 

_That you love him._

"Exactly." 

_What?_

"That… I love him. It wouldn't do any good. I doubt he'd believe me. Not after everything." 

_True._

"And there's so much else that needs to be said, you know? Stuff I don't even want to think about." 

_Then say hello to your miserable life alone._

"God, stop that! I thought you were supposed to be the optimistic one." 

_Whatever gave you that impression?_

"You did. The other day, when I took Blair out for that hopeless dinner. God, what a farce. I know he doesn't love me. He can't. Why should he after everything I've put him through?" 

_And isn't it just possible he thinks exactly the same as you?_

Jim stared. 

_After all, did you ever even hint to him that it was a lifetime commitment you wanted? That you couldn't bare to live without him? That he was everything to you? That you love him body and soul? That if he leaves you, permanently, he'll take the best parts of you with him? Well? Did you ever mention any of that stuff? 'Cause, to be honest, if you did - and he still left, then, Jimbo, you don't have a hope in hell. But if you didn't?_

"Then maybe I should?" 

_Well…_

"Should I tell him how I feel?" 

_It would be a good place to start._

"But I … just can't!" 

_That's crap and you know it! Look, if you don't let him know what's going on inside our head, how the hell is he supposed to know? He's your damned Guide, not your personal mind reader. What else has he to go on? A lot of bad selfish behaviour and a whole pile of unnecessary shouting. A bad means of communication and besides, it makes our ears hurt._

"Don't I know it," Jim replied with something of a laugh. 

_So go and give it a try. Find some way, some small thing that lets him know. But remember what I said about the sex. Don't try it. Or rather, only try it if you want him to think that's all you want from him - and then you'll really fuck it up - no pun intended._

Now Jim chuckled a little, warming slightly after a bad afternoon. He'd never realised his subconscious had a sense of humour. Quite comforting, really. 

He grabbed his razor and began shaving, his eyes never leaving that weird face staring back at him. 

"And what if I fail? What if I tell him how I feel and it turns out he doesn't love me?" 

_What have you lost?_

"Ah, good point. Well, I won't promise anything but I'll see what I can do." 

_All I can ask. Have fun. But remember, you make one false move - and I don't care how damned appealing he looks - you make one false move and I'll be screaming in our ears so hard I'll make us go deaf. Understand?_

"Absolutely. Got it. Right. Whatever you say." 

_God, you are such an ass, Jimbo._

Shower, dressed in casuals, taking less time than before and then it was time to collect Blair. Dressed in his usual t-shirt, checked overshirt and jeans, he looked as stunning as the first day Jim had kissed him. 

And god how he remembered that moment now. Like a ghost, it came back to haunt him, relentlessly. A single kiss, soft and chaste - but definitely deliberate. A harsh curiosity that had revealed a torrid passion he'd never even imagined in himself - let alone Blair. He'd never thought it possible to enjoy kissing another man and yet, the moment that first was done, he'd been unable to stop himself going back for more, and yet more. 

And oh, how Blair had wanted him. Tied him up and unravelled him, all at the same time. 

But Jim had killed that passion off and now he was left with a plastic copy of the man he… needed so much. What was he supposed to do to melt that exterior? Or was this all he was ever going to get from Blair? Was this all Blair had left to show him? All that wonderful character safely contained inside this lovely shell. 

The game started off a little dull, then warmed in the second half. The crowd were into it, too, causing so much noise, Jim had to dial down his hearing and thereby put an end to any attempts at conversation he might have had. Fortunately, Blair, for all his coldness, understood and made no attempts of his own. 

On the other hand, being there with Blair to watch a deserved Jags victory was good in itself and Jim found his mood had lifted by the time they got back onto the street. Without making any offer, Jim pulled the truck in next to a street hot dog stand. They both ate in silence, in the dark street, trying not to look at each other. 

Jim finished eating first, wiped his hands and put the rubbish in the bin. There was just enough of the glow of the win left in him to give him a little courage. Facing Blair squarely, he said, "Why?" 

"Why what?" Blair said around mouthfuls - and Jim had to concentrate to avoid watching that mouth as it opened to take in the last of the roll. 

"Why come out with me?" 

"Why not?" 

"Now that's a damn stupid question." 

"I don't understand what you want me to say." 

"Jesus, Blair, I want you to tell me the truth. This is our second date and you've hardly said a word to me in four days. Why bother going out with me if this is how you intend to play it?" 

"I'm not playing anything, Jim. I just don't have anything to say." Blair dropped the rest of the hot dog into the bin, licking his fingers. 

Jim watched him, shaking his head. He was no longer sure he wanted to do this. No longer sure of anything. He couldn't tell if Blair was deliberately trying to provoke him - or honestly didn't want to be anywhere near him - but if that was so, why in hell go out with him at all? Twice? 

"Come with me," Jim said, intending to walk down the street. They had to talk about this and there was no time like the present. 

"No." Blair didn't move. "I'd like to go home now, Jim." 

And in those words, Jim heard a finality he'd been deaf to before. Now he understood what Blair was doing. If he'd refused that first date, Jim would have kept trying. This way, Blair was showing him that there was no point to either of them pursuing any kind of relationship outside of work. No, Blair didn't love him. Probably never had - and now, never would. 

That lead thumped a second and final time. Knowing he was going to regret it for the rest of his life, Jim could do nothing more than nod. They got back into the truck and he drove to Blair's apartment once more. Blair got out without even saying goodnight. He just disappeared into the shadows while Jim sat there and stared without using his sight. He hardly noticed the closing of the door. He just couldn't bring himself to move. 

But when he did, he didn't drive away. Instead, he got out and walked into the shadows, stopping by the door. How long he stood there, he had no idea - but it was a long time. And then his body began to tire and he realised he had to go home. He turned for the truck - but something made him pause. A noise, small and slight. A familiar heartbeat getting closer - and then the door opened and Blair stood there exactly as he had before, his clothes unchanged, his hair untouched. 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah." Jim replied, knowing Blair couldn't see him in the dark. 

A short silence was ended with, "What are you doing out here?" 

Jim swallowed, "I don't know, Chief. Just can't seem to make myself go home." 

"Why not?" 

"I think… I left something here." 

"But you've never been here before." 

"I know. Sorry. I'm not trying to stalk you or anything. Look you go get to bed. I'm going now." 

But he didn't. Instead, he just stood there, watching the smaller man, noting every tiny aspect of his face lit in the pale glow of the streetlights. In the echoes of his memory, he could hear the little sighs Blair made as Jim had touched him, felt the tremors of his body as Jim gave him pleasure and he knew in that moment that the thing that had kept him going back again and again, which kept him from leaving now was the undeniable knowledge that the thing he'd loved most about that short time together was giving Blair pleasure, of making him feel so good he lost the power of speech, even the will to say goodnight. The exquisite joy of being able to make the man happy. Oh, what a gift he'd been given in the small man who stood silent before him. And he'd loved it. Not just the sex, but the whole thing. Being together, seeing and making Blair laugh. Listening to him all enthusiastic about something, breathing in the energy Blair seemed to use to fire the air around him. He missed it all because it had meant something, something so important that he would rather die than give it up now. 

But he would never have it again if Blair didn't want it too and there was only one way to find out for sure. 

Knowing that voice inside him was going to start yelling in a second, Jim took a few steps forward until he stood in front of Blair. The small man looked up at him giving nothing away in those soulful eyes. Believing in his heart that it would be the last opportunity he would ever get, Jim raised a hand and put it under Blair's chin, tilting it up towards him. When he spoke, his voice trembled with all the emotion he'd tried so hard to ignore. 

"God, Blair, you are so very beautiful." 

Blair's eyes widened in shock - or perhaps horror, Jim couldn't tell which. But he had to know. Had to. He paused long enough to give Blair the opportunity to move away, then brought his head down, his lips close, breathing in the scent he adored. Then, his courage fleeing with every second, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to Blair's. 

No reaction. 

At first. 

Then… then Blair's hand came up to take his. Jim moved back and tried to see something in those eyes. No, there was nothing. Nothing except… No, wait. 

But he didn't. He dipped his head once more and kissed Blair with little more than a breath of determination and felt, to his eternal surprise, the young man's lips opening to meet his. He didn't force it, it just happened and then suddenly they were coming in towards each other and Blair's body melted against his and every fibre of Jim's being began to sing at the same time. His arms came around and held Blair close - and Blair held him too and it was so wonderful Jim felt like crying except that he never cried so whose where the tears on his cheek and did he really care any more and god Blair smelt so good tasted so good felt so damned good and could he make this one moment last absolutely forever? 

And then it was over and Jim was pressing his cheek against Blair's, feeling in the other man, no urgency to get away. Long after he thought his brain had turned to mush, Jim finally found words to say. "You have to go, Chief. Go on. I know you got stuff to do in the morning." 

"You don't want to stay?" breathless, in his ear. 

"Yes - but I'm not staying. I'm going home." 

"Oh." Disappointment. 

Disappointment? 

Jim drew back with a sharp intake of air. "What do you mean, oh?" 

"Nothing." Blair was all innocence - but Jim was a Sentinel and he could see something in those wonderful eyes that Blair, for all his new-found skill, could never hide. It wasn't something he could name but his immediate desire, short of sweeping the man off his feet - was to throw his head back and howl with delight at the moon. 

He settled for a kind of lop-sided grin he knew made him look like an idiot. "Oh yeah?" 

"Goodnight, Jim." 

And then Blair smiled. Not the one hundred megawatt Sandburg smile that could melt glass at a thousand yards and replace all atomic weaponry in the country - but a real, honest to goodness smile that had enough laser hardware built in to scorch a permanent mark straight through Jim's heart. "Good night, Blair." 

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Jim pressed his lips to Blair's once more, deliberately swift, deliberately avoiding getting entangled - because that would be the end of him - and let the smaller man go. He turned quickly and headed directly for his truck. He pulled out into the street and turned the corner and was halfway down the next block before his hearing told him that Blair had finally gone back inside. 

He'd been right: he had left something behind - something he now carried within the confines of his large hand. Something thin and frail and fragile but he'd never held anything more precious in his whole life. He held it close and treasured it for the priceless jewel it was: hope. 

* * *

Blair reached his bedroom breathless from running up the stairs. He threw himself on the soft covers, almost laughing, almost crying, almost anything. Instantly his fingers brushed across his lips as he remembered that touch, that longing, that presence he'd thought he'd never feel again. 

Jim had kissed him and god, it had felt like coming home. 

How could he leave that? How could he ever want to? But he'd never wanted to. It had been only necessity without desire. 

But was there any way to get past the rest of it? Could he bring himself to go back to Jim knowing there was no love in it? Knowing that really, nothing had changed. 

Except that - 

Jim had said he was… beautiful. 

Never in his whole life had anybody ever said anything like that to him. 

Beautiful. 

And Jim had meant it. That much had been obvious in every line of his body, every whisper of his voice. Jim thought he was beautiful and for those wonderful short moments, Blair had felt he was exactly that. 

He let it go and burst out laughing. Jim said he was beautiful. He should talk. The man who had stolen Adonis's body and got away with it. The man whose eyes had the power to sink ships - and Blair along with them. 

So what now? Would there be another date? What did Jim want from him? 

Why hadn't he come inside? 

Blair's laughter stilled and he sat up against the headboard. No, it was too soon to get carried away with anything. All he had was something… small, granted, but something to begin with. Now he would just have to wait and see what happened. He didn't dare do anything himself, make any move that might give Jim the wrong idea. He had to stand back, denying his own instincts, and let Jim take each step on his own. Blair just had to wait. 

But hell, he could do that. He could do that easily! 

* * *

Saturday 

"Blair?" 

"Jim! Hi!" 

"Er, how are you?" 

"Fine. Great. You?" 

"Okay." 

"Senses alright?" 

"Sure. Listen, I was wondering if you might like to do something on Sunday." 

"Something? Like what?" 

"Well, maybe get out of the city for a few hours. The weather looks like it will be good. Thought maybe we could well, take a picnic down to the lake. Or something. If you want to, that is. I mean, if you don't or if you've got plans I'll understand." 

"You're not working?" 

"No." 

"Um…" 

"Look, it's okay. Another time, then." 

"No, wait." 

"What?" 

"Well, I just have a meeting with one of my students for Sunday morning." 

"Working on the weekend, Chief? That doesn't sound like you at all." 

"Hey, man, we all got responsibilities." 

"Sure. So no picnic. I understand." 

"No, what I meant was, if you don't mind leaving a bit later, you know, perhaps about one, then sure, I'd really like to go out to the lake." 

"You would?" 

"If the offer is still open. If you don't mind waiting a bit. I know you usually like to start early for that kind of thing. Of course, I suppose I could meet you out there…" 

"No! No, Chief, sure, I can wait. How about I pick you up from Rainier at one?" 

"Well, if I don't have to go home first, make it 12.30." 

"You're sure?" 

"That would be great - then I'll have an excuse not to go overtime with my student." 

"Glad to be of service. See you tomorrow then." 

"Bye." 

"Bye." 

* * *

_Sunday_

In mid spring, the lake looked crisp and new, still fresh and unguarded, undusted with summer heat and crusty leaves. The water sat like a plate of glass just after washing, reflecting and mirroring the trees lining the banks, the awesomely blue sky above. Pristine and untouched with summer crowds, Jim and Blair pretty much had the place to themselves. 

Blair walked along behind the other man, glancing away from the view every now and then to study the tall figure carrying a small pack on his back. Blair had given it to him on his last birthday, six months ago. Jim had laughed, made some comment about how all he needed was a pair of glasses and a dissertation he was never going to finish and then people wouldn't be able to tell the difference between them. Unwisely, Blair had responded with his own comment about hair being a bit of a giveaway and had nearly been crushed as Jim had made a serious attempt to tickle him to death. 

Good days, nice days. Before anything more serious had grown between them. Days it had taken until the last few weeks for him to realise how much he missed. The friendship. The easy way they'd always had with each other. The understanding. The sharing. The jokes, the history, the small glimpses Jim the friend had allowed Blair to see. Little things - but all so very good. 

The guys at the station had once commented on how Jim and Blair seemed joined at the hip. Of course, they'd said this without any knowledge of the relationship between Sentinel and Guide, but then hell, had Blair really understood it himself when he got into it? Sure, he'd sounded convincing to Jim - and he'd needed to - but all along he'd known this was pretty much a guessing game. 

One he'd nearly lost. Might still, if he wasn't careful. 

So, where did Sentinel and Guide land when there was no other bond between them? Jim had been having a lot of trouble with his senses lately. Real, serious problems he had a tendency to dismiss. Like losing his hearing while on the phone. Like being stricken with tunnel vision during a stakeout. Three zones in the last fortnight. More than he'd had in the six months previous. 

So how much did a sentinel's emotional state affect his senses? And did Blair really want to ask him? Was he prepared to hear the answer? Or would Jim just think he was looking for another chapter to his dissertation? 

Not that he needed it. Not now. It was finished - but he'd not been able to bring himself to tell Jim. Not yet, anyway. Not when whatever was going on was still so fragile, so tentative. 

"Hey, Chief?" 

"What?" 

"You gonna stare at my back all day or are you going to appreciate the view." 

Did he dare? Hell, why not? "I thought I was." 

And Jim actually stumbled on the ground marked with rippling tree-roots. But then his stride lengthened again and Blair allowed himself a smile. Yeah, good one, Blair. Nicely caught. 

Jim chose a spot at the southern end of the lake where they would get as much sunshine as the day would allow. He stopped where a flat pebbled beach jutted out into the water and dropped the pack onto a conveniently placed rock. He crunched out onto the stones and picked one up, skipping it across the glazed water. It jumped three times and Blair was suitably impressed. 

Jim did it again and managed five jumps. Now Blair felt a challenge go out and picked up his own stone. Joining Jim by the water's edge, he threw the other man a sideways glance, and threw his pebble. Six skips. 

"I see," Jim murmured, dryly. Collecting another, he swung his arm back. Seven skips and a plop at the end. 

Blair said nothing. Merely took his turn. He gave his wrist an extra flick at the end and caught another two beyond Jim's best. 

"Nine?" Jim stared at him, already reaching for another stone. 

But Blair decided to put him out of his misery. He'd never been beaten at this in his entire life. Before Jim could let loose, Blair tossed another and counted eleven bounces on the flat surface before gravity pulled the stone into the water's depths. 

"Huh," Jim grunted. "No fair. You have a height advantage." 

"What?" Blair laughed. "You've got more than a few inches on me, man." 

"Exactly." Jim beamed down at him. "I'm hungry. Let's eat." 

It wasn't the very best meal Blair had ever eaten, but it did come perilously close. Jim had gone all out, with all Blair's favourite deli foods, crispy wholemeal rolls and everything he liked best. As usual, eating outdoors gave it that extra dash of flavour. As he licked his lips on yet another olive, he leaned back on the grass and glanced at Jim. "I know this is probably a bit late in the game to be asking this." 

"Go ahead." 

"Well, I'm just curious but - does food taste better outdoors than inside? With sentinel senses, I mean?" 

"Of course it does. But you know, most of our taste sensations have a lot to do with smell. If we couldn't smell our food it wouldn't taste anywhere near as good." 

Blair nodded and turned his gaze back to the lake - and unbidden, the memory came to him of their first night together when Jim had told him how good he smelt, how good he tasted. Regret rushed through him like a hurricane and he found himself windblown and frowning. 

"Blair? What's wrong?" 

He turned to find Jim staring at him, concern written all over a face usually so good at hiding things. Blair couldn't bring himself to tell the truth. He didn't want to ruin the day. It had been so nice being able to forget about things and just be together for a while. 

"Come on, Chief, tell me what's going on." 

"It's nothing, Jim, really. I'm okay." 

Jim sucked in a breath and glanced away, his own frown creasing his brow. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and measured. "Listen, I know it's hard but we have to do it sometime. I mean, we've been so careful around each other since the other night of the Jags game - but nice as it is, it won't last and you know it." 

"But can't we just enjoy it while it does last?" 

"How can we when we know what's under the surface?" 

"But do we know?" Blair paused, picking threads from the edge of his shirt. "Can’t we just pretend, for one day, that there is nothing wrong?" 

"No, Blair, we can't." 

"Why not?" 

Jim turned back to him, meeting his gaze without anger, "Because that's where we went wrong in the first place. Not trying to understand what was happening. Now we've crashed into reality, we need to know because if we don’t try and find out, neither of us will ever find any peace." He half laughed, "Hell, I don't know why I'm saying this to you - this is really your speech, you know." 

Blair nodded, some part of his face trying to smile. Suddenly he felt very small and dwarfed by the size of the lake, the hills and trees and the depth of his feelings for his sentinel. When Jim's gaze hit him again, he felt like crying and he didn't know why. Jim watched him then moved until he sat beside Blair, cross-legged on the grass, his cup held between both hands. 

"You know," he began slowly, "that in so many ways, we're pretty much opposites of each other." 

"Not in everything." 

"No, not everything - but enough." 

"For what?" 

"I don’t know but," Jim took in another breath, "you find it easy to make friends, to get on with people. You're relaxed in your relationships. Things don't seem to bother you. You're really good at just accepting people as they are." 

"Are you trying to tell me you're judgemental? 'Cause I don’t think you are one bit." 

"No," Jim replied patiently, "I'm trying to say that where you find it easy to express how you feel, I don't. I have a lot of trouble. Not just with expressing it - but working it out in the first place." 

"But, Jim, you…" 

"And sometimes you don't make it easy when you keep interrupting." Jim smiled to take the edge off his words and Blair shrugged. 

"Sorry. I'll shut up now." 

"I don't want you to shut up, Blair. I want you to talk to me. No shouting, I promise." 

"Okay," Blair murmured, terrified to his core. "But I don't know what you want me to say." 

"Whatever you feel like saying." 

Blair stared at him. Then nodded. "Alright. Right now I feel like saying that I really like being here with you. I like this dating thing. I like this lake and I like this peace and quiet and I like the fact that you dragged me away from a whole Sunday looking at my computer." He swallowed, gaining courage as he went. "I liked going out to dinner with you and I liked the Jags game and I liked it when you kissed me goodnight. And I'd like today so much more if you would do that again right now." 

Jim looked up at him, surprised, his face a wonderful mess of tumbling emotions, any one of which had the power to melt Blair's heart. "God, I wish I could do that." 

"You can't from over there." 

"No," Jim laughed a little, "I mean, I wish I could just talk like that." 

"Oh." 

"No, Blair, please, I do want to kiss you - but, well, I don't think we should." 

"Why not?" 

"Come on, you're the almost-doctor. You know exactly what I'm talking about." 

"Yeah," Blair sighed, looking away. "I guess I do." 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, you're completely right, man you know? It's stupid. I'm usually the one who's trying to get you to talk. Like, now I'm always the one trying to get us off track and you're the one always trying to get us back on. It's my own fault and I'm sorry." Now Blair was really close to crying and he didn't want to because this was so not the kind of place to cry in. 

The long silence which greeted his words gave him time to gain some control. But still he couldn't look at Jim. Still couldn't face the differences between them, didn't want there to be any, didn't want there to be a problem at all. Hell, why couldn't they just start again and hold each other and say sorry a lot and make love here, by the lake? Wouldn't that heal a few wounds? Wouldn't that help? Some? 

Yeah, but only so far. After that, they'd be left with all the other things they'd never said, never expressed and one day, too soon, it would all come up again and then there wouldn't be this avenue to go down again because they would already have tried it and failed. 

The sheer heart-breaking honesty of this revelation left him stunned and speechless and for a moment, he forgot that he wasn't alone. That was, until Jim's words jolted him back to reality. 

"You hurt me." 

For a second, he thought he'd misheard. Slowly he turned, wide-eyed, showing his profound surprise at what was an admission he'd never thought he'd hear from Jim. Recklessly, he needed to hear it again, just to be sure. "What did you say?" 

"I said, you hurt me." 

Joyfully, uncaring of the statement or the answer, he asked, "When?" 

"That night when you stayed out without calling me." Jim's voice held no anger. It was simply a statement of fact. Acknowledging Blair's surprise, Jim shrugged, "Well, you didn't seem to want to start so I thought I'd better." 

Blair almost smiled - wanted to desperately, in fact - until the meaning set in a bit and suddenly, the mood was gone and he was springing to his feet, all the unresolved anger inside flaring in his defence. "I hurt you? Me? And what do you call the thing you did to me?" 

As though he'd hoped for this response, Jim kept his seat and his calm. "And which thing was that?" 

"You not wanting to tell anybody about us, that's what!" 

"I explained all that at the time. I thought you'd accepted it." 

"Yeah, right. So I have to go day after day pretending that it wasn't happening, watching the guys look at you in pity because you couldn't seem to find somebody to share your life with. Like I was going to do that and be happy about it. Hell, man, do you have any idea what it feels like to know you're ashamed of me? Ashamed of admitting to all your macho friends that you're actually sleeping with me, another guy? Hell, I'm not even a cop! I'm just a dud anthropologist with some half-assed ideas about stuff they haven't even heard of before \- like they would care anyway. Like, shit, Jim, I'm nothing to them and for a minute there, I just wanted them to know that I was something to you! Oh, and don't give me all that bull about my life being in danger. It is every day I work with you - and some that I don't so I don't want to know, okay? What I do want to know is why, when we had something so damned good you had to just throw it away because you were ashamed. I mean, if you were ashamed to be with me, why did we get together in the first place?" 

Jim listened to all this without interrupting. When Blair finally wound down, Jim simply shook his head. "I told you, I wasn't ashamed of you." 

"Then why!" Blair demanded, completely ignoring the rule about no shouting. Nobody could hear them anyway - and Jim could just damned well dial down his hearing if he didn't want his ears to hurt. 

"Because I was afraid." 

"Yeah?" Blair spat, disbelieving. "Of what?" 

"Of what they might say." 

Blair came to a halt. "What?" 

Jim climbed to his feet but stayed where he was. "Blair, I'm almost forty. Never been with a man until just a few months ago. I've had to do some real hard thinking about how I saw myself and yeah, I was surprised with how I felt about you. Really surprised. Like I'd been kidding myself about a lot of things for a long time. I started to lose a grip on my self-image. You've studied psychology, Chief, you know how important self-image is to sanity." 

"Sure," Blair replied, non-commital. 

"So, I was having trouble with it and then suddenly you demand I tell all my workmates, hell, my oldest friend, that suddenly, I've done a complete about-face and am now not only living with you but sleeping with you and blissfully happy with it. I tell you, Blair, I was terrified what they would say. I needed their image of me to remain the same or I was going to start losing it." 

"But… why didn't you just tell me?" 

"Like I want to admit being afraid to the bravest man I know. Sure." Jim turned away and made for the water's edge alone, leaving Blair staring at a pair of stiff shoulders. "Oh, I knew I was hurting you and I knew what you wanted and in my own way, I wanted it too but, Chief, I'm the Blessed Protector, the Sentinel of the city and I was afraid. Do you have any idea what that kind of confusion does to me?" When Blair didn't answer, he continued, "I knew I'd hurt you and almost wanted you to hurt me back, so I wouldn't feel so bad about it. So you stayed out late and you came back stinking of beer and grass and you knew I would know where you'd been. But you went without telling me and without calling and you knew I'd be awake till you got home, worried out of my brain. But that was what you wanted. You wanted to strike back at me and hell, I deserved it, I know I did. But, God, Blair it hurt. Really bad. You made me so damned angry because you, so damned clever, simply refused to understand what I was going through, even though I made no attempt to explain it to you \- and that made me angry too because I kept thinking that if we were right being together then I shouldn't have to explain it to you. 

So I hurt you and you hurt me and we got better at it, finding all the little insecurities we could exploit the most. I knew you were cooking dinner that night and I deliberately stayed out late. I was secretly delighted you tossed all your hard work into the bin because I knew how it would have hurt you to do that, how disappointed you would feel after you'd had your hopes up - and I deliberately slept on the couch because I wanted you to know how angry I was without actually having to explain why. I wanted you to hurt like I did. I really wanted you to hurt so I… went out to a bar one night and stayed out long after closing and deliberately got as much women's scent over me that I could without actually doing anything." 

"Why?" Was all Blair could offer, so stunned as he was at this overwhelming admission. 

"Because once I'd started, I had to keep hurting you. That was the only way I could keep myself safe." Jim drew in a ragged breath. "And every time I did, it went against my blessed protector genes and I felt so guilty I got angry all over again. But I wanted to push you away. I had to or you might see how scared I was. Yeah, it hurt when you moved back downstairs but all the while I kept thinking I'll get him back, just find the right time and the right words and I'll make it all better. I was so sure I could fix it without ever having to tell you why it was broken in the first place. Even when you moved out," he gulped in air and Blair had to stop himself going to the man, comforting him. "I wanted you to go, Blair, really I did. But I also wanted you to stay and I just didn't know what the hell I was doing any more. Jesus, Blair, you made me feel like shit and I knew you were right, because I was. But still I couldn't say anything. I was sure you wouldn't understand. And I kept pushing you and pushing you and finally you snapped and left. So I followed you, spent nights sitting outside your apartment right up until the night when I saw the one thing I'd never wanted to see but just had to see because by then, I didn't know the difference between pleasure and pain, you know, I just had to have both and I had to see you with another man in order to know what pain really meant and you will never know what that did to me, Blair because I don't want you to know. Nobody should know and all I could think of was that you were mine, mine and I'd thrown you away like you didn't matter at all." 

A hollow silence fell across the water as Jim steadied himself with long even breaths. Blair didn't dare move. He'd never seen Jim like this before and it scared him. Scared him because he knew it wasn't over yet. That somehow, the worst was yet to come - and he wouldn't simply be a spectator any more. 

Level now, Jim's voice cut into his thoughts. "You've finished your dissertation, haven't you?" 

"Yes," Blair whispered. 

"And once it's approved, you'll be leaving Cascade." A statement, not a question - and just like that, all the tension in Blair snapped in one go. 

"What?" He strode forward, grabbing Jim's arm to bring him around. "Is that what this is about? You really do think I was just using you to get my doctorate?" 

"Of course you were - and don't lie about it now." 

"Well," Blair stumbled, struggling - then stared Jim down. "Maybe, in the first few weeks, yeah, I did think hey, my big chance to study a real sentinel close up. Dissertation material in spades, man. But that is so not what happened. I know you don't want to hear this, Jim but what you are is IMPORTANT. Not just to me but the world in general and my dissertation is important. But that's not why I stuck around. God, I could have gone to Borneo - but I didn't. I stayed because I wanted to be with you, because I decided that was more important than anything I could do over there." 

"I know." Jim's voice was ominously quiet now, sending shivers down Blair's back. "But you would have left. You're still planning to now, aren't you?" 

Blair blinked, for a moment, unable to answer. 

"Well?" 

"I…er -" 

"The truth, Blair. I want the truth. You are planning to leave, aren't you?" 

Blair swallowed and breathed, "Yes." 

"Why?" Still that same quiet, setting Blair's stomach on edge. 

"Because… because there's no reason for me to stay." 

"What reason do you want? What reason do you need, Blair? Now that your studies are done, there's nothing to keep you here." 

For some reason, Blair couldn't meet that gaze any more and he took a step away. But Jim followed him, his voice driving the panic in Blair's guts. "Why, Blair? Why not just go? Isn't that what you always do? Just pack and leave? The pattern of your life? Invest as little as possible, do what you have to and then get the hell out before the storm breaks." 

"How can you say that, man," Blair burst out, walking as fast as he could. "I stuck with you when you were really bad." 

"Yes, but that was when I still had something to offer you. You still needed me for your dissertation. But still all you wanted was to move on. It's in your nature, Chief. It just is. Why go on denying it when you know it's the truth?" 

"But I'm not like that! How can you say that?" 

Jim grabbed his arms and spun him around, his eyes blazing anger, "Because the moment our relationship hit rocky ground, _you bailed_!" 

Blair froze in that grip. 

"Yeah, you bailed, Chief. Right out. You kept running - like you were doing just now. You haven't got a clue, have you? You don't know the first thing about how a relationship works - because you've never really had one. Not for more than five minutes. You don't want one because it's just too fucking hard. So you fell for me and it was so lovely and wonderful while everything was perfect but the moment it started to get difficult, you just got angry and started blaming me for everything. Now maybe some of it was my fault - I know that - but some of it was you, too - but you didn't stop to think about that did you? Never wondered for a minute that there might have been another reason why I wouldn't tell my friends about us? Didn't try and ask me, didn't stick around long enough to find out. Didn't see that I was afraid - didn't try to look. No, when you didn't get what you wanted you just got angry and started fighting me. Christ, how could I honestly consider having a serious long-term relationship with a man who doesn't know what the hell he's doing? And you wanted me to tell my friends about us? What was I to tell them, eh? That I was sleeping with you but not to worry because you'd run away soon enough." 

Jim let him go with a look that bordered on disgust. "And strangely enough, that's exactly what you did." 

Blair stared, his eyes filling with tears he couldn't begin to acknowledge. Stumbling, he took a step back and then another. Sentinel senses be damned - Jim didn't need any special senses when he could read Blair like an open book. All but the important parts. The parts he'd needed all along but could never ask for. Long term relationship? What was the point? What was the point of this whole stupid, hopeless waste of time. No, he didn't know anything about being in a relationship - but what was the point when he knew it would never have anything to do with love? 

He turned away, no longer wanted to even glimpse Jim. He just wanted to get the hell out of this nightmare. Go somewhere where there wasn't this… this… pain slowly killing him. 

It took him long minutes before he could trust his voice to speak again. Time during which Jim said nothing. Eventually, he managed, "I want to go home." 

"Of course you do," a sigh of defeat, footsteps crunching on the gravel. Moving away. 

Blair kept his back to Jim. "Yeah, well, if you know all that, why the hell did we come out here? So we wouldn't disturb the neighbours? Man, why did you bother with me in the first place? You knew my background. You were clever enough to point out we should wait before getting involved. Hell, you're the man nearing forty. You're the grown-up. Why did we have to go through all this before you decide it was all a mistake? Eh? Why? You said you had no regrets and now you're telling me it's all my fault." 

Another long silence greeted this but Blair just held his breath. 

Jim's voice was filled with sadness, quietly and deathly. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine. You're right, I should have seen it coming. I should have asked these questions in the beginning." 

"Don't do that!" Blair yelled at the trees, unwilling to look at Jim. "Don't keep making it all one thing or the other! It can't be all your fault, you know? It can't be!" 

"But it is. I should have…" 

"For Christ's sake, let me take responsibility for what I did wrong, will you? God, you take all the blame on yourself so I can't do it for you. Makes you feel like a martyr, doesn't it. Feeds your guilt. So I fucked up. Yeah, I don't know the first thing about how to keep a relationship together. I'm useless - " 

"I didn't say that." 

"Yes you fucking well did!" 

Jim's voice was a whisper now, "I'm sorry." 

"Don't give me that shit, Jim!" Blair was crying uncontrollably now, huge sobs racking his body, driving his desperation deep inside. "You knew what you were going to say on the way out here." 

"No, I didn't." 

The soft voice broke his heart again and helplessly, Blair wiped his sleeve across his eyes, unwilling to let Jim see the tears. 

Now Jim's voice seemed to drift inside his head, killing him with every soft word. "But it's strange. All these things I wanted to say to you before and never could. When they needed to be said, I just couldn't come out with them because I really didn't know what I was feeling. And today? Well, I just opened my mouth and there they were, every hurtful, viscous, nasty thing I'd ever thought. Every single one doing me no justice and you so much less. And still, I can't seem to…" 

But Blair had heard enough. "Take me home." Without turning, he strode back the way they had come. 

"I love you." 

Blair stopped breathing. His legs stopped moving and for all he knew, his heart had stopped beating just to keep the others company. 

And then there was a presence behind him but he couldn’t face it yet, couldn't dare because that was so important, so necessary and god, why did his strength and courage fail him now, when his sentinel needed them the most. 

A breath on the back of his neck, the words whispered again, a promise, a desire, a longing matching his own. "I love you, Blair." 

His lungs were screaming for release, but still he ignored them. 

"And that was our biggest mistake," Jim continued softly, wonderingly. "We never stopped long enough to consider that maybe the reason why we found ourselves kissing on the couch that night was simply because we'd fallen in love." 

Blair's body finally objected to the harsh torture and he raked in a huge shuddering breath. Trembling in every muscle, he shook his head, biting his tongue. "Didn't know." 

"What?" 

"Just didn't know, Jim. That you loved me." 

"Not surprised. I didn't know myself until the other day at the park. When I realised how bad I wanted you back. How much I needed you." 

And at that, Blair turned, throwing himself into the arms waiting for him. As Jim held him tight, he buried his face against a strong shoulder, shaking his head again and again, "God, Jim, don't do this. Please don't." 

"What?" Jim's voice was shaking as much as his. "Don't what?" 

"Just…" But Blair had gone too far, travelled too hard and fast and deep for one day. He'd heard the words he'd longed to hear and yet, all the wounds didn't heal up, didn't go away and didn't make it all fine. All he could do was hold on until he could gain something back, some reckless part of him that had been missing for so long. But it didn't happen. It never would happen. Instead, everything inside him was breaking and he couldn't do a single thing to stop it. 

Eventually his tears dried, his sobs stopped and he felt again the arms around him, holding him as though they would never let him go. But they had to. He knew that now. 

He took in a deep breath, "I have to go home." 

There was a hesitant pause and he felt Jim nod. "Okay, Chief. I'll take you home." 

Blair released himself from that hold and began walking down the track, only aware at the last that Jim was behind him. When they got into the truck, Jim threw him one glance but said nothing. The drive back to the city was empty and cold and Blair was no longer concerned with anything but getting away from Jim. 

The bigger man was silent as he drew up before Blair's apartment and Blair was glad. There were no words left for them to say. Instead, he just climbed down and went inside, only aware afterwards, that he'd heard Jim drive away. 

Concluded in part three.


	3. Chapter 3

Due to length, this story has been split into three parts.

## Between Dusk and Dawn

By Jack Reuben Darcy

Author's homepage: <http://internetdump.com/users/angiet>

* * *

Between Dusk and Dawn - part three  
by Jack Reuben Darcy 

_Two weeks later_  
 _Saturday_

Jim held his glass between both hands as he stared out at the view from his balcony. The spring sun had just set and the sky was golden in the west, growing darker to the east. He lifted his head and breathed in the scents of the city, idly identifying one after another, finding one he didn't recognize. A new restaurant? That's right - Mongolian up on 51st. Two miles away! Not, bad, sentinel. Not bad at all. 

He took another sip of his bourbon and let the harsh liquid burn his mouth, drown out anything he might taste on the breeze. 

Why couldn't the mind be so easily segmented? How useful it would be if he could parcel up some bits he didn't want, stack them away in boxes and stow them in some dark dungeon he never had to pass unless he wanted to. Memories would be a good start. Those terrible times in Peru, those hideous weeks when he thought his senses were driving him into insanity. The time when Lash abducted Blair. The elevator almost crashing. Golden nearly killing the anthropologist, blinding Jim. 

Yeah, there were a few things he wouldn't mind putting away never to be retrieved again. Thoughts, memories, feelings. Perhaps those most of all. The way he put his winter clothes away when summer came around, only bringing them out if the weather turned sour. Like, today is a day without Blair so today I don't need to feel love and loss and regret so I can pack those away for a time when I'll need them. 

Two weeks tomorrow. 

It would be two weeks tomorrow since the lake, since he'd last seen Blair, last spoken to him, last touched him. 

The voice in the mirror had been painfully quiet that whole time. Answering none of the questions flung at it. Probably didn't have any answers anyway. 

Simon had come around in this afternoon, a grave look on his face. He'd taken a beer, sipped for a bit, stood out here on the balcony and demanded to know why Jim had said nothing about Sandburg moving out. 

Jim had only shrugged. Even when Simon had insisted, Jim had only said something about them having had a disagreement. Simon was no idiot and couldn't miss Jim's weird calm, his inability to so much as clench his jaw over anything. And to be honest, Simon was concerned about what he termed was inexplicable behaviour in two men he'd thought were close friends. 

Jim didn't elaborate. After all, what was the point now that it was all over, for good? 

He took another mouthful and drained his glass. And it was over. It didn't take a brilliant detective to make discrete enquires at the University, to find out the status of one dissertation, that it was already long on the way to being accepted. And more, that its author had been offered no less than three positions. A research fellowship at NYU, a trip to Irianjia, another to Chile. The last was the most deafening - as Blair had been offered leadership of the expedition after its current leader had become ill. A position worthy of his experience, his qualifications, of a dissertation that once published, would blow the anthropological world apart. Blair's name was made, his career the blinding streak of brilliance Jim had always suspected it would be. 

That at least should bring some happiness to Blair. After all, he lived ate and breathed his work. Anthropology had always been the one thing sure to get his energy up, keep his interest, hold his enthusiasm. So now he had what he wanted and Jim hoped, sincerely, that Blair would be happy now. 

A dozen times he'd gone to call. Dialling all but the last number. Five times over the first week, he'd driven by either Rainier or Blair's apartment - but not once had he stopped and gone in. Strangely though, it had become easier as each day went by. Easier to suppress the hurt, to re-gather himself. Easier to pretend that Blair had loved him and was going anyway. 

And even when Simon had announced this afternoon that Sandburg had sent his ID back to the station, asking for it to be cancelled, Jim hadn't reacted. Nothing to say. Nothing he could do. Simon didn't understand. Well, maybe Jim would get around to telling him one day. Maybe. 

With a satisfied grunt, he got out of his chair and wandered back to the kitchen to pour another finger of bourbon. The shrill ringing of the phone made him look up. For a moment, he wondered if he should bother answering it - but then he picked it up. 

"Ellison." 

"Er… is that Jim Ellison?" 

"Yes. Who is this?" 

"Well, you don't know me but I believe you know of me." 

"You'll have to be a bit more specific." 

"My name is Pete Swain but that doesn't really matter." 

"Why not?" 

A pause during which Jim frowned and took another sip. 

"Well, it just doesn't." 

"So how do I know of you?" 

"You… er… saw me with Blair Sandburg, at his apartment some weeks ago." 

Jim closed his eyes and sank to the couch. Did he really want to have a conversation with his replacement? "Alright, I know who you are. What do you want?" 

"Look, Detective, I don't want you going all Neanderthal on me. Blair and I went out a couple of times, nothing more. We're just friends. He doesn't want any more so…" 

"So what?" 

"So I just don't want you getting the wrong idea." 

"Look, Pete, Blair and I are finished - so why are we having this conversation?" Jim found his glass empty and for a moment, thought about refilling it - but changed his mind. 

"Because… well, because I'm not calling about any of that. Man, I don't know what happened between you, okay, but you gotta know, he's pretty messed up." 

Jim sat up. "What do you mean, messed up?" 

"Like he doesn't answer his phone any more, hardly goes into work, doesn't talk to anyone." 

Jim wanted to grin at the other man's discomfort - but didn't. "Perhaps it's just you." 

"Christ, Ellison, do you really care so little about him? I like Blair - I mean, really like him. I asked around because I knew something had happened and I was worried. No, man, it's not just me he doesn't want to see. He missed a review board meeting yesterday that's got him into a lot of hot water. I went around to see him today and he wouldn't even answer the door. He just shouted at me to leave him alone." 

Jim sank back into the couch and took a moment. "What do you want me to do about it?" 

"Well, I don't know, man," Pete spat back. "I thought that maybe because Blair was so cut up that perhaps what had happened between you was pretty serious. So I guess I was wrong. Forget it." 

"Wait." Jim gripped the phone and took a breath. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Just go and see if he's okay. I thought maybe you might get in. Make sure he's eating and sleeping. Hell, I don't know." 

Jim put his glass down on the coffee table and rubbed a hand over his cropped hair. "Hey, I'm sorry, okay? But the truth is, I'm the last person Blair needs to see right now. I'm… I'm glad you care enough to worry. I'm glad he's got somebody prepared to look out for him but all I can do for him now is cause him more pain. Your heart's in the right place but I'm afraid I can't help." 

"Yeah, okay," Pete sighed. "Well, thanks anyway." 

After he put down the phone, Jim stared at it for a long time. Should he try calling Blair? 

No. After two weeks, he couldn't. He would just do more damage. If Blair really needed him, Blair would call. 

He got up and made dinner after that. Nothing great, just some defrosted stuff Blair had left in the freezer. He sat and watched television until the wee hours and his eyes wouldn't stay open any longer. Only then did he get up and climb the stairs to bed. He sank beneath the covers thinking again at the strangeness of his conversation with Pete Swain. Odd that after all that, he'd been genuinely glad that Blair had someone, glad that he'd been able to talk to the man who had taken his place in Blair's life. 

Odd that after all this time, he could accept such a reality without letting it tear him apart. 

_You don't really think you're over him, do you?_

Jim laid back on the pillows and answered his subconscious. "I might be." 

_Uh huh. So what is that big black thing lurking in your gut, eh? A nice little well of happiness? Doesn't look like it to me._

"Well, maybe I've just grown up and learned to accept that there are things in this life I simply can't have." 

_And maybe pigs have learned to fly and will take part in next year's Cascade Airshow._

"You know, I never knew my subconscious could be sarcastic." 

_It's a steep learning curve._

"You've got something to say, spit it out." 

_You fucked up._

"Now tell me something I don't know." 

_You let that guy call and tell you something was wrong with the man you love and still you won't do anything about it._

"And sometimes the subconscious doesn't pay attention to the obvious." 

_Oh yeah?_

"That perhaps you don't see it yet, but I want Blair to be happy." 

_And he's delirious right now._

"No, but he will get over it. He'll get over me. He'll go to Irianjia or Chile and he'll bury himself in his work and one day he'll wonder why he hurt so much. Or that guy, Pete will get the chance to love Blair and maybe he'll not make the mistakes I made. But Blair will recover and he will be happy." 

_And will that make you happy? Knowing Blair will find peace in the arms of another man?_

"It's not about what makes me happy! Don't you think I want him back? But you were right - I fucked up and now I have to pay the consequences." 

_Seems Blair is doing the paying at the moment._

"Yeah, well, like I said, it will get better. Look, just shut up and leave it alone." 

_Until next time._

Jim closed his eyes and rolled over and deliberately set about some of the relaxation exercises Blair had taught him. It took a while but eventually sleep came upon him. 

He woke to a sense of danger that seemed wholly wrong in the darkness of his loft. It was a reflex that sent his senses out to pinpoint the heartbeat of his guide. He couldn't stop himself until it was too late. With a moan, he sat up and glanced at the clock. 3am. Christ! 

Just to be sure, he sent his senses out again, looking for intruders \- but there was nothing. So he slid back down, tried to get comfortable and hoped sleep would take him again. 

The phone rang. He cursed. Without moving much, he reached over and grabbed it. "Ellison." Nothing. But he could hear breathing. "Hello?" 

"Jim?" 

He froze at the sound of the voice. Soft, hazy and deeply worrying. "Blair?" 

"Jim… I…" 

"Are you okay? Blair, talk to me. Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. Fine." 

A long pause had Jim sitting up in bed, straining his hearing to catch anything the phone might give him as explanation. "Blair?" 

"Just wanted to hear your voice, okay? Sorry it's so late." 

"Blair, you haven't taken anything have you?" 

"Taken?" Another long pause. "No. Nothing. Don't worry, Jim. Sorry. Just… just wanted to hear your voice." 

Jim felt the moment drift away from him so he drew up and seized it with both hands. "I'm coming over." 

"No, it's okay. Really, Jim, I haven't taken an overdose or anything. Please, Jim." 

But a line had been drawn somewhere between dusk and dawn and Jim had already taken one almighty step over it. Too late to go back now. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. You stay right there." 

* * *

It was almost 3.30 by the time he pulled the truck in in front of Blair's apartment. He paused only long enough to make sure he could hear that heartbeat coming from inside. The one he knew. Could pick out in a crowd. The one he still couldn't remember to stop looking for at the loft. 

_That_ one. 

Then he was out and looking up at the windows. The street was quiet and empty and only the palest glow came through the curtains. He strode up to the door and pressed the buzzer. 

"Jim?" 

"Let me in, Chief." 

The seconds ticked by and Jim held his breath. Then came a single word. "Okay." The buzzer went again and Jim pushed the door open. A set of stairs faced him and he took them two at a time, hearing the door bang shut behind him. Another door was open at the top and slowing now, he stopped just inside. 

To say that the room before him was a mess would have not only been a gross understatement - but completely unfactual. This room was not merely untidy, it had been deliberately trashed. Curtains were torn, cushions split open, chairs broken and debris was spread across every horizontal surface. He'd never seen this room before but it looked like it had once been nice, that Blair had made an attempt at making it nice. His new home. The one that didn't have Jim in it. 

Two doors went off to his left, and through one he could see the makings of a bedroom - or what was left of it. The other was the bathroom. To his right, an open walkway into a kitchen. This space appeared to have missed the worst of the damage - though it wasn't untouched. But worse still, was the man standing in the centre of the room, one hand reaching out as though for support against the kitchen bench. 

Blair looked like the only survivor of a hurricane. His hair was a mess, his clothes worn and seemed to have been put on in a hurry. His feet were bare, his hands scratched. His face was pale as a winter's day but the eyes were dark and evasive. 

The moment Blair realised Jim's gaze was on him, he raised a hand, "See, Jim, I'm okay. You can go now." 

Not moving from his spot, Jim said quietly, "What happened here? Somebody break in?" 

"No." Blair still didn't look at him and pulled in his bottom lip, his right hand tapping on the bench. "Jim, look it's really late and I know you have to get some sleep, so now you know I'm okay will you please just go." 

"No." 

Blair's eyes darted to him for a second, startled, then away. 

Jim continued, "No, I don't know you're okay and I'm not leaving until I'm sure. When was the last time you ate." 

"Um, today - or yesterday. Lunch. Yeah. I had lunch." 

"Of what?" 

"Sandwich. I had a sandwich." 

"First in a week?" Jim, feeling anger bubble around inside him, strode forward and grabbed Blair's hand from the bench, holding it up before the man's frightened eyes. "You've lost weight. You can't lie to sentinel eyes, Chief. You're lying to me now. You haven't been eating, have you?" 

"I have." Blair tried to pull his hand away but Jim wouldn't let him. 

"Blair," Jim dropped his voice, "tell me what's going on." 

"Nothing. Jim, just go, will you? I'm tired and I want to go to sleep." 

Watching him, Jim quelled the anger, allowed it to be replaced with the clearest, crystal determination he'd ever felt. It was so clear, he could have been frightened by it if it hadn't been so entwined with the most important person in his life. But that made it different. That made it work - and he could go with it. 

"Okay, Chief. I'll let you get some sleep." 

For a second, hope filled Blair's eyes as he glanced up - but then he saw the determination in Jim's and he tried to back away. But Jim was having none of it. This had all gone too far, way too far and that line he'd stepped over was getting so far into the distance now, soon he'd have difficulty seeing even with sentinel sight. 

Pulling Blair along behind him, Jim moved about the living room, sidestepping the mess, turning out lights as he went. He reached the bedroom and dragged Blair inside. Blair put up a fight, but he was no competition for this hard determination. Jim straightened the blankets, put pillows back in the right place and switched off the light, all without letting go of Blair's wrist. Then, with one unceremonious jerk, he forced Blair down onto the bed, climbed in next to him. 

He kicked off his shoes, wrapped his arms around the other man and prepared himself for the fight he knew would come. It didn't take long. Then Blair was kicking him, pushing him, doing everything he could to get away. But he was beyond exhaustion and Jim knew it. Knew that he just had to hold on long enough for Blair to tire. When he did, Jim pulled him closer, settling the younger man's head on his shoulder. 

"Just go to sleep, Chief. We can worry about everything else in the morning. Come on, just sleep. That's it, just let your heartbeat slow down, wash away the fight. Just go with it, listen to my voice and follow me down. Relax, I've got you safe. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay with you while you sleep. Just relax." 

As Blair's breathing slowed and steadied, Jim allowed himself a small smile to think he'd just used a guide-voice for the first time in his life. 

* * *

_Sunday_

Birds were singing outside unfamiliar windows when Jim finally woke. For a moment, he couldn't work out where he was, but then he remembered and he looked over and found Blair beside him, one hand up near his face, mouth slightly open, fast asleep. Checking first to make sure the slumber was truly deep, Jim leaned over and brushed his lips across the pale forehead. Then, carefully and quietly, he slipped off the bed, making sure all the while that Blair hadn't woken. He got out into the lounge unscathed, glanced around and ducked into the bathroom. When he was done, he checked on Blair once more but the younger man was still asleep. 

For a long moment, Jim just stood there and watched him. He was beautiful like this. Warm and fuzzy and soft. His hair falling across the pillow, his mouth slightly open, his face at peace. Nothing like the hell-raiser he could be when awake. Jim had always liked waking up to feel Blair beside him. It had somehow made the rest of the day start out right. 

Silently, he pulled the door closed and turned to face the terrible mess. He started with the kitchen then moved to the lounge, filling bags with days' old rubbish and broken furnishings. After he'd taken them all downstairs, he worked on the bathroom then set about studying the contents of the fridge. Blair might refuse to eat - but Jim was ravenous. There wasn't much to be had however and for a moment, he contemplated going out to pick up a few things - but he didn't want to be gone when Blair woke up, so he rummaged in the cupboards and found some flour, eggs and milk and proceeded to whip up some pancakes. He found a basket of blueberries in the bottom of the fridge that didn't look too bad, put on some coffee and ate as he cooked. 

"Jim?" 

He glanced up in surprise to find Blair standing before him, hair askew, eyes puffy from sleep. A compact package of misery and joy and Jim couldn't help but smile. "How're you doing, Chief?" 

"What happened?" 

"Oh, I cleaned up a little. Here, have some coffee." Jim poured out a mug and pressed it into Blair's hands and steered him to the small round table. Within a few minutes, he set a plate down, full of pancakes and looking not a little tasty even if he did say so himself. 

Blair just stared at it. 

"Go on, it won't bite you." 

"These blueberries are a week old," Blair murmured, his voice still waking up. 

"Well, I just ate them and they're fine. Go ahead." 

Like a man in shock, Blair nodded feebly, picked up his fork and put some food into his mouth, chewing automatically. His gaze flickered to Jim and to his plate, back and forth until half of it was gone. Then he took a huge guzzle of coffee and Jim could see the world taking shape again. Eventually Blair looked up, sat back and said, "What's going on?" 

"Nothing. Just looking after you like you've done for me more times than I can remember." 

"Oh." Blair got up from the table and wandered around the lounge. "You took all the stuff out?" 

"Yeah." 

"Couldn't stand the mess, eh?" 

"Didn't want you waking up to it." 

"Why not?" 

"Too messy." 

"Oh." 

Silence then as Blair wandered to the window, glanced out, frowned at the sunshine then looked at the clock. Almost four in the afternoon. He turned back to the couch, sank into it and pulled a cushion onto his lap and almost cuddled it. 

Jim was not so much an idiot he couldn't read basic body language. He knew what he had to do, just wasn't sure he knew how to do it. So he settled on instincts and trusted that his subconscious would warn him if he was going to make a mistake. It was time it made itself useful. "Blair?" 

"Mmn?" 

"It's not your fault." 

"Uh huh." Blair was staring at the wall, paying no attention to Jim at all. So Jim got up, came across the room and sat on the other end of the couch. 

"It's not your fault." 

"It is." The whisper wouldn't have been heard by normal ears. "All my fault. You said so. I know it." 

"Okay," Jim kept to the thin thread his instincts were guiding him with. "Why is it your fault?" 

"Didn't understand. Didn't listen. Didn't notice. Didn't work hard enough. Didn't stick around." 

"Did you try?" 

"Yes." 

"But it didn't work?" 

"No." 

"So it's your fault it didn't work." 

"Yes." 

"If you'd tried harder, would it have worked?" 

"Yes." 

"Sure?" 

"Yes… maybe." 

"Maybe? Even if you'd tried twice as hard? Ten times as hard?" 

"Maybe." 

"And would you feel any different if it still hadn't worked?" 

"Dunno." 

"Could you have tried any harder?" 

The answer was a long time coming but Jim didn't insist. 

"Don't know. But I should have." 

"Why?" 

"Because I loved you." 

Jim took his moment as he heard those words for the first time. Then, keeping tight hold on those instincts, he let them guide him just as this man had done for the last three and a half years. "Do you think I tried?" 

"Sure." 

"Hard?" 

"Yes." 

"As hard as I could?" 

"Suppose so." 

"Could I have tried harder?" 

"I don't know." 

"If I had, do you think it would have worked?" No answer. Jim continued, "If we'd both tried harder, do you think we might still be together?" 

Blair's eyes lifted at that, but didn't look at Jim. But he could see they were filled with tears which dropped lightly onto Blair's beautiful face. "Yes," he breathed, more movement than sound. 

"Then," Jim steeled himself, hoping to god his instincts were right about this. "It's can't be all your fault. Some of it has to be mine, doesn't it? 

"I… don't know." 

"Do you think that maybe if we try hard we can get back together? Stay together?" 

"But I'm leaving Cascade. You said I was going. Been offered a job. No reason to stay here any longer." 

"I love you, Blair." Blair shuddered slightly - so Jim said it again. "I love you." 

Now Blair was struggling, struggling to get out of the freeze his body was in - but Jim could do not more to help him. "But you said… and I had to leave. It's all such a mess. Can't do this." 

Jim held out his hand, only the ends of his fingertips touching Blair's arm. "Blair, do you want to go on feeling this bad?" 

A vigorous shake of the head. 

"Then stay. Come back to me. Help me make it work. Let's make it work together." 

"I…" 

"Go on." 

"I want to." 

"But?" 

"I'm scared." 

"Of what?" 

"Of… of ruining it all again. Like before." 

"You won't. You've learned. I've learned." 

"Still scared." 

"Of what?" 

Blair became quite still then and Jim held his breath until the words finally came out. "Of you." 

The instincts hadn't warned about any of this! Taken completely aback, Jim could say nothing. But then Blair finally turned and looked at him, eyes wide, tears stopped, fearful, ready to run but equally ready to stay. He nodded slightly and added, "It scared me, Jim. Really scared me. Feeling like that. About anyone. So strong, so hard. I felt that way about you and when you started to push me away I started to get really scared. Afraid that I would never feel that for anyone again. Afraid that you would never feel that for me." 

Jim somehow knew that wasn't the last of it. "And?" 

"And," Blair pulled in a swift breath, his courage shining through at the last, "afraid that you would." 

"Why?" Shocked to his core, Jim could only ask that one question. 

"Because if you did, if you loved me… then I wouldn't ever be able to leave you." 

Stunned, Jim couldn't speak. 

Blair went on, "You were right. I didn't want to go but there was a part of me that felt it needed to be able to. Needed to know I could have my freedom when I needed it. I needed an escape hatch. But things got so intense so quickly and neither of us were talking about love and somehow that made it okay for me to want to get out." 

"You think loving me - me loving you would have trapped you?" 

Blair shrugged, more animation coming to his face as each moment went by, "Yeah, I guess I did. That's why I didn't notice what we were building up to - because I didn't want to acknowledge it. Didn't want to think I'd feel that way and get myself locked in. And you made it so easy, Jim, pushing me away, giving me reasons to hate you, to get away from you. But," he paused, swallowing, glancing down at his hands. "Then you said you loved me and I knew I'd ruined it all. That it could have been great if only I'd not been afraid." 

"Blair," Jim tried to breathe to loosen the tightness in his chest. "I don't want you to go. I want you to stay. I love you. I need you. But I don't want you living in a prison. I want you to be happy and if that means you have to have your freedom, then, I guess I'll have to live with it." 

Blair frowned at that. "You'd let me go?" 

"If I have to, yes." Jim came forward a little, not touching Blair but just being close. "Love should never be a prison with chains and bars. I'd never want to do that to you and see you wilt and die. I love you for what you are, just the way you are. I know that sounds like some dumb song but it's true. If you have to have your freedom, then I won't keep you here." 

In a tiny voice, Blair asked, "And if I don't?" 

"Then I'll hold you and love you for as long as you let me." 

"Jim?" A small smile captured Blair's eyes and made Jim want to cry. "Are you sure you're not a mind-reader?" 

"Positive. Why?" 

A tiny shake of his head and Blair reached up and touched his face, cool fingers on his cheek, across his lips. Jim wanted to move but he didn't dare. Blair shifted closer, leaned in and brushed his lips across Jim's. Then his hands came up and around Jim's neck and the kiss deepened, making Jim groan with the release of it. He let his arms wrap around the compact body and pull the other man close. He breathed in the scent, dwelled in it, swam in it, and breathed it out again. 

Blair was laughing softly into his ear. "You're sniffing me, big guy." 

"Yeah," Jim smiled. "Isn't it great?" 

"I need a shower." 

"Why? What I'm getting here is pure, unadulterated Blair Sandburg." 

"And perhaps a little too pure." Blair kissed him again, blowing away any objections Jim might have to just about anything and all Jim could do was kiss him back and hold him tight. Then Blair pulled back to gaze into Jim's eyes. Jim could see large weighty thoughts scatter across that amazing mind but he kept his silence. "Would you wait here? Let me wash and change? I can't remember how long I've been wearing these clothes - but it's been a few days at least. Would you mind waiting?" 

"Sure." 

"Good. It's just that, I think we need to talk some more and I want to do it before I change my mind." 

"Do you think that's likely?" 

"No. But I want to. Okay?" 

"Okay. I'll put some more coffee on." 

* * *

Blair closed the bathroom door but didn't do anything for a moment. Instead, he found himself staring at the image in the mirror, the one looking back at him with vaguely haunted eyes, a stubble of beard and hair that was in serious trouble. He must have stood there a long time because Jim's voice came to him, asking if he was okay, that he hadn't heard the shower going. Blair called back that he was fine and began stripping his clothes off. He shaved as the shower ran, getting hot. Then he stepped in, washing his hair, soaping himself down without really thinking about anything at all. Then the water started to run cold and he rinsed off, climbed out and dried himself. That was when he realised he'd forgotten to bring fresh clothes in. Come to think of it, did he actually have any? 

Concentrating now, he dried his hair, brushed it, cleaned his teeth. Then, wishing he didn't have to, he wrapped a clean towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Jim was sitting by the window and glanced around immediately. With some trepidation and not a little frisson of fear, Blair felt Jim's gaze sweep up and down him, noting how little of him the towel hid. 

What would the man say if Blair just asked him to go to bed? Now? There were so many things that could be said in the act of love that could never be spoken; a whole language buried in touch and sensation, feeling and giving. And yes, taking. Verbalising without words. The aching need inside Blair was almost painful - but he knew he couldn't ask - and he knew Jim wouldn't. 

He moved to step out of the bathroom - and noticed a small pile of neatly folded and ironed clothes placed where he was about to put his feet. Bending down, his heart was caught by the thoughtfulness of the offering and he ducked back in, closing the door, before Jim could see just what that little thing had done to Blair. 

He dressed quickly in the first clean clothes his body had seen in a week, checked his reflection once more with rigid determination, then went out to join Jim. He stood there a moment, basking in the smile the other man gave him and nodded. "Want to go for a walk before the day's completely wasted?" 

"Okay." 

It was quite warm outside and Blair couldn’t help putting his head back to feel the sun on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd done this and it felt good. Really good. Jim walked alongside him, not talking, but there was nothing uncomfortable in the silence. Blair left it until they'd gone three blocks and were almost at the small park he liked to study in. Then he said the words he needed Jim to hear. "I won't come back." 

He could almost hear a jaw tightening - so he added quickly. "If I leave, I won't come back. Ever. So," he risked a glance aside, "I'm not leaving." 

Jim's eyes widened, catching his just as they got to the corner. The lights favoured them and they strode across. Only then did Jim stop him with a hand on his arm. "Elaborate. But not too much." 

Blair wanted to laugh at that - but settled for a semblance of a smile. Seemed parts of his face hadn't quite woken from his long sleep yet. "I mean, I'm staying. If you want me to -" 

"I do." 

"I'll stay then. But - " 

"But?" Jim was wound tighter than a clock spring. 

"But I think you were right the first time." 

"Which first time?" 

"The very first time - when you said maybe we should wait, take it slowly. I think we don't have a choice any more. I need to learn this relationship thing. We both have a few fears we need to be rid of. Slow is our only option if we expect to have any success." 

Laughter lit Jim's eyes and filled Blair with a warmth the sun could never emulate. "Okay. And how slowly is that?" 

"I'm not moving back into the loft." 

Now pain filled those blue eyes and Blair turned and led him into the park, towards the small brown pond in which a few ducks were bathing themselves. Blair stuffed his hands into his pockets and waited for Jim's reaction. 

"You don't want us to be together?" 

"I think we need to make sure we want to be together." 

"I'm sure." 

"Are you?" 

"You're not." 

Blair turned at that and found Jim watching him. "Are you sure, Jim? Really sure you want me?" 

"Sweetheart," Jim murmured, softly and with every ounce of conviction Blair had ever heard, "I want you." He paused, his gaze keeping hold of Blair's, "What do you want?" 

"You," Blair breathed the certainty he'd tried so hard to avoid. 

His response was a warm glow from Jim, three notches higher than anything the sun could offer. "Good. That's good, Chief. Really, really good." 

Blair felt his eyes misting up and blinked a few times to clear them. "Okay. Then we take it slowly and when it feels right, I'll move back into the loft. But right now, I need to know I still have my independence. I'm not going to leave so I don't want you worrying I might. I just want to keep the door open a while longer, so I don't panic that it might shut behind me when I'm not looking. Can you understand that?" 

"Yes, Blair, I can." Jim smiled and squeezed his arm. "And there's the added bonus that I get to be right about something for a change." 

With a chuckle, Blair shook his head, "Hey, big guy, you're right about a lot of things. I just don't let on 'cause I'm supposed to be the brains in this outfit, remember?" 

"I'll never forget it again. So, can I ask you out? Can we see each other?" 

"We'd better." 

"Good. Dinner tomorrow then?" 

"Okay." 

"But something relaxed, if it's okay with you." 

"Anything with you is okay with me." 

"Anything?" 

"Yep." 

"Right, now I'll have to think real hard just so I can keep you in suspense." 

"God, Jim," Blair burst out laughing, "You are such an ass!" 

* * *

_Two months later_  
 _Thursday_

Blair paused before the handbasin and slowly washed his hands. He was alone in the resturant bathroom now and he took the opportunity the moment gave him. He'd had no time in the last few hours to really absorb it all. Odd, how things can change in the beat of a heart. Less than that. This morning, when he'd woken up, he'd been much as he'd always been. And now - he was something more. 

Odd indeed. 

He dried his hands then leaned them on the smooth marble counter to gaze steadily at the face he saw in the mirror. With his hair tied back, his face was lit clearly and completely by the soft glow of lights above and to the side. He was not dissatisfied with what he saw. But it was still the same face he'd been seeing for years. There was no discernable difference that he could make out. And yet, the world would say that the man he was today was changed from the man he'd been yesterday. 

He grinned at himself and raised a hand to straighten his tie, pick a piece of fluff from his expensive jacket - the one Jim had bought him a few weeks ago. Despite the fact that he really didn't like formal wear like this, he had a real soft spot for this jacket. 

They'd gone shopping together, Jim determined to buy him something quality for a change, something that would last a little longer than the three years Blair usually got out of one cheap shirt after another. So they'd spent hours in and out of menswear shops until Jim had found him this jacket. He'd sent Blair into the changing room with it, then calling out to see how it was, Jim had followed him in. In the total privacy of the changing room, Jim had checked out the cut of the jacket, then taken Blair into his arms and kissed him solidly for five minutes and more. 

Only the threat of needing to take the moment further had torn them apart breathless. That and the fact that they knew the store security would wonder what they were doing in there. 

So Jim had paid for the jacket and now Blair wore it, staring at himself in the mirror. For a moment, the smile stayed on his face - but gradually it faded as his now-constant favourite worry reasserted itself. 

Things were good. No, they were great. The last two months with Jim had been wonderful and at no point over that time did Blair ever question how much Jim loved him. No, he was sure and comfortable and secure in that love, delighting in it each day. It would have been enough - should have been enough - 

Except that Jim wouldn't sleep with him. 

Not that Blair had mentioned it exactly. It wasn't really something he felt he could put into words; the vague suspicion that things weren't as good as he thought they were. Sure, they spent plenty of time together, mostly at Blair's apartment - but also going out, going away for the weekend - times during which Jim touched and kissed and held Blair - but never taking it further. 

Yes, he knew Jim loved him - but why wouldn't he make love to Blair? Did he no longer feel any desire? Jim had said time and again that Blair was beautiful and now Blair looked at his own face and began to wonder. Had things been so pleasant because Jim was trying hard to compensate? Was he looking for a way out, some means to say he wanted only a platonic relationship? 

A sliver of fear worked its way into him for a moment, before he determinedly banished it. If a platonic relationship was what Jim wanted, then Blair would live with it. Being loved by Jim was more important that anything they could have in bed. It was just that, being around the big guy got Blair so hot some times - now more than ever. So many weeks of abstinence was wearing down on him - 

Or perhaps Jim thought _he_ wasn't interested any more… 

An eyebrow raised itself at him and he grinned in return. Was that it? That Jim's concerns were for him? That sounded much more like his sentinel. Yeah, just like Jim. 

Well, there was only one way to find out. With one last straightening of his jacket, Blair turned and headed back out into the resturant, his first gaze going to where Jim sat on the far side of the lounge, piercing blue eyes seeking out his own. Blair had to smile. Some days, the concept of love seemed to be written all over Jim's face \- and he was constantly surprised that people didn't walk up to him and tell him so. 

* * *

Jim sank back into the huge chair, took a mouthful of coffee and tried to ignore the cigar smoke that was hopelessly drifting in his direction. But the coffee was good, the meal had been spectacular and of course, the company had been the absolute best. 

He glanced around the large ornate room, noting the small groups of post-dinner guests lounging in similar situations as himself, picking up idle pieces of conversation without deliberately eavesdropping. He smiled when he heard a comment directed at Blair as he wandered back through the room after visiting the bathroom. Blair wouldn't have heard the words about how wonderful he looked in his brilliant white shirt, his dark suit jacket, his hair tied back. But Jim could see the gazes following him, more than a couple a little wistfully. 

Jim was tempted, for a moment, to stand as Blair reached him and give him a sweet kiss before regaining his seat - just to mark him, in the eyes of those watching, that he belonged to Jim Ellison. But the temptation was fleeting because he knew he'd never be allowed in this exclusive establishment again - and he had grown quite fond of it over the last two months. 

They'd eaten there four times now. Ever since Blair had admitted he rather liked the place. Of course, Jim took him other places as well \- just as Blair took him to places he wouldn't normally try. They'd been out more times together than Jim thought he'd ever been out with anyone - not even Carolyn. 

And, just like this place, he'd taken Blair back to that Mongolian restaurant a few times, ever since that first night, two months ago, when they'd officially decided they were back together again. Happened over desert - and Jim had never tasted anything so sweet. 

Blair arrived and took his seat opposite, lifted his cup quite innocently and gazed steadily at Jim over the rim as he sipped. Then he sat back, crossed his legs and did everything he could to look like an elegant gentleman who belonged in a place like this. 

Jim nearly choked on his coffee to stop himself laughing. 

It was moments like this that helped him forget the torment that had brought them here. Moments of exquisite joy, just looking at the beautiful creature who sat across from him. The one all those envious gazes were cast towards. 

Yeah, going slowly had its rewards. In spades. It had allowed him to find out about this man all over again, in small juicy pieces he could savour, one at a time. And as they had gone out, date after date, they had grown closer, spoken of things they'd never touched on before, some of their pasts, some of their futures. And of course, they'd talked about the things that had torn them apart in the first place, the anger, the fear, the pleasure, the happiness. They'd rediscovered why it was that they'd fallen in love, had traced back far enough to understand where their feelings had changed and taken delight in it all. 

Not that there hadn't been any disagreements - but there'd been no fights. No shouting. Just a dogged insistence on being heard, on hearing and listening and in the last weeks, Jim had found himself surprised to find that it seemed Blair did know a lot about how to keep a relationship going, how to make it flourish. 

Blair was still living at his apartment and although Jim wanted to ask him to move in to the loft, he wasn't prepared to push the issue just yet. Especially as so far, they were still not sleeping together. 

On quiet, dark nights alone in his bed, he allowed himself to worry about that. Blair had never mentioned it, never hinted, never left small messages in his conversation or body language that told Jim he was ready to resume a physical relationship. Of course, they spent plenty of time kissing, holding each other, a few nights in front of the TV with a few beers and a bowl of popcorn - but it was always at Blair's place and Jim always left before midnight - frustrated, but content that he was doing the right thing for a change. 

For some reason, Blair was avoiding the loft and although Jim knew it held some bad memories for him, he was getting a little concerned that things might not be going as well as he thought. 

But tonight, he was determined not to think about it - for tonight was something really special. Tonight they were celebrating because today, Blair had received verbal notice that his dissertation had been accepted. The official notice would take another few weeks to come through and then Blair would be a Doctor, with a full graduation ceremony at the end of spring term. 

And along with the acceptance, Blair had received an offer for a Chair at Rainier - at his age, an awesome achievement. With a little humming and ahhing, Blair had accepted on the spot. He'd rung Jim immediately to give him the good news and Jim had made the booking here as a congratulations present. The message Blair had given him would have been clear to a blind man. He really wasn't going to leave. He was staying right here, in Cascade. 

"Deep thoughts?" Blair said quietly, picking up his port. 

"Yeah, I guess," Jim shrugged. It was hard having a private conversation when he was sitting so far away from his guide, in a room full of people. "Just thinking how proud I am of you." 

Blair's smile lit his face like sunshine. "Really?" 

"Sure. I mean, you're not even thirty. How many people are offered a Chair at that age?" 

"In anthropology, nobody. The only other ones I know of are Hawking at Cambridge and others in the pure sciences going way back." 

"Well, then." Jim smiled and decided it wouldn't hurt. "You know how many people watched you cross the floor just now?" 

"Why? Do I have something spilled on my suit?" Blair began checking and Jim had to laugh. 

"You really have no idea, do you?" 

"About what?" Blair was really puzzled now. 

"Just how devastating you look. Enough to make people forget all about food." 

Blair ducked his head but not before Jim caught the beginnings of a blush. God, he'd made Blair Sandburg blush! 

"Congratulations, sweetheart," Jim raised his glass, not giving a damn who heard him. "I love you and I'm proud of you." 

Blair gave a wicked chuckle, "And you're damned glad you don't have to do any more of those awful tests." 

"Exactly!" 

"Ah, the way to a man's heart." 

Jim drained his port and put the glass back on the small table. "I think it's time I was getting you home. You do have to work tomorrow, remember?" 

"Sure - though to be honest, it feels kind of empty now I've finished my dissertation. It won't really pick up again until after the summer break. Then I'll have a full teaching load and then I'll regret it." 

"No you won't," Jim insisted, steering him through the big doors to the foyer. "You'll love it. You love teaching. Not to mention that as a Professor, you'll be expected to do lots of independent research, publish something else earth-shattering once every couple of years and generally keep everyone else on their toes. I don't think they have any idea what they've got themselves in for." 

The warm night air caressed him like a soft glove and he took Blair's hand in the darkness, walking towards the truck. It was lovely to be able to touch him after an evening of only looking. Holding hands like this had become one of his greatest pleasures - even if he could only afford to do it in the darkness. They got into the truck and headed back across town. Blair relaxed in his seat, his hand reaching again for Jim's as they drove. 

"Jim?" Blair asked after a moment. 

"What?" 

"Have you ever wondered what you would have done if you hadn't become a cop?" 

"I'm not sure I had a lot of choice. I mean, it kind of goes with the sentinel thing, doesn't it?" 

"Maybe - but did you want to do something else? Or did you leave the army with the police force in mind?" 

"It wasn't a direct transition, no, but Simon had a lot to do with it. I was in a bad way back then and he really saved my skin." 

"I guess you owe him a lot." 

"Yeah, I do. He's been a good friend." 

"So, what would you have done? If you had had a choice?" 

Jim frowned, taking his time. "Not sure. I mean, I never had the choice, you know, so I was never free to ponder it at the time." 

"So you wouldn't have been say, a ballet dancer?" 

Grinning, Jim glanced at him, "What, with these shoulders?" 

"Hey, I love those shoulders. Don't pick on them." 

"Whatever you say." 

"What about a plumber?" 

"Well, the shoulders would have been good for that - but sentinel senses would have had a hard time with all those smells." 

Blair chuckled, "Good point. What about a pilot?" 

"You hate heights, Blair, so I would never have been able to take you to work." 

He was rewarded with a sweet smile. "I guess you would never have been tempted into anthropology?" 

"I had no idea what it was until I met you. Then for a goodly part of the next two years, I wished I hadn't." 

"And now?" 

Jim smiled and squeezed Blair's hand, "Now I have you. My own private anthropologist - and a Professor at that. Believe me, that's the best way to round off an education." 

Blair was still laughing when they pulled up outside his apartment. Jim got out and followed Blair to his door. Blair got out his keys and Jim put a hand on his shoulder, prepared to say goodnight. Blair turned. 

"Come up for coffee?" 

It was late - and Blair really did have to work tomorrow - but this was also his night, so Jim happily nodded and followed him up into the lounge. Truth was, these days he just couldn't get enough of the man. 

The apartment looked really good now. Blair had replaced the broken stuff and it had a really nice atmosphere. It didn't help Jim however, to note that all the things that had made the loft look like a real home were now arranged around this room. 

Blair was busy in the kitchen and, trying not to look like he was doing it, Jim watched him for a moment, seeing the light pick highlights out of those soft curls, see the square set of the shoulders, the careful hands as they worked. Blair was beautiful enough to turn a dozen heads in a posh resturant - and he still made Jim's blood pound. 

Resisting the overwhelming temptation to throw the other man on the table and ravish him without a word, Jim turned and took a seat on the couch. Blair joined him, sitting close, letting Jim put his arms around him. Blair snuggled in and Jim placed a kiss on the top of his head, letting a finger wrap up a single long curl. 

"I love you," Blair murmured softly, bringing a beautiful peace to the evening. 

"I love you, too." Jim replied. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you. I mean, I know what I did - but that was before. Now, I have no idea." 

"Well, there's no reason for you ever to find out. Not unless you want to." 

"No, I'm here for good now. I have all I want. My doctorate, a great job - and my man. The only way I'm leaving Cascade…" 

"Is in a wooden box?" 

Blair laughed gently, "Is if you go with me. I want you to know that, Jim. I want you to know how much you mean to me. How much this means to me. I know you think I find it easy to say what I feel but you know, sometimes it is hard to come out with the deep stuff. I love you so much sometimes it hurts." 

"I know, baby." Jim pulled him closer and Blair lifted his head. Their eyes met for a moment and then Jim kissed him, slow and deep and Blair opened up to him, driving them down to lie on the couch. The passion behind the kiss thrilled Jim and he went back for more, entrapped by Blair's control, revelling in it, a slave to it. 

He heard the coffee maker ping but Blair didn't move, having found a comfortable position stretched out on Jim's chest, his hands idly brushing over the fine cotton of his shirt. The very closeness of Blair was giving Jim some serious difficulty. All his senses seemed on hyper alert all of a sudden and the press of Blair across his whole body was engendering in him a reaction he was having difficulty controlling. 

God, why was it that every time he held Blair these days, all he could think about was making love to him? Why, every mouthful of food Blair had consumed at dinner had Jim watching those lips, the throat as he'd swallowed. Every shift of that expressive face had him dreaming, every word voiced had him flying? 

And now it was all happening again and now he was starting to get worried that he might not be able to get himself to leave at midnight. Blair's warmth encased him like a blanket of down, his scent drove steamy images before him, blinding him, making him see. All the fine hairs on his body had pricked up, as though they could absorb every ounce of this wonderful bundle of laughter and light. His heart pounded hard, his hands strove to roam and touch, his body yearned to feel and give. He was stiff with want and need and all he could do was take Blair in another kiss, a kiss which attempted to communicate all that he wanted and needed and was afraid of admitting. 

Blair tasted so delicious, of coffee and port and something else he now knew was wholly and completely Blair Sandburg. And he loved that taste, felt himself become a part of it. His arms pressed Blair to him, his hips moving without his volition to brush his errection against Blair's hip. Now completely unable to help himself, he groaned, buried his face in Blair's neck and whispered, "Want you so much. Want to make love to you right now." 

With a soft and deep-throated moan, Blair shifted against him, an erotic caress that had Jim's senses reeling, "Oh, yes, Jim please!" 

"Yes?" Jim's heart did a sharp flutter. 

"Thought you'd never ask." Blair sighed, his own voice laden with want and need, sending Jim's hot blood coursing through his veins. But before he could say anything, Blair posessed his mouth, driving his tongue deep and leaving Jim in no doubt at all what he really wanted. Taste again assailed him, touch too as that velvet tongue rasped against his own, delved deep inside him, marked him as Blair's. 

Soon, too soon, the kiss ended, leaving Jim teetering on the edge of insanity. Grasping for purchase, he murmured, "You were waiting for me to ask?" 

Blair began work on Jim's throat, nipping sharp and soft, his hands plucking at shirt buttons. "You seemed worried about it so I thought…" 

"But, I was waiting for you." 

"Don't wait any longer, big guy. Please. Have to have you." Blair slipped a hand inside Jim's shirt, fingers seeking and finding a nipple which his tongue soon discovered. "I am so not capable of lasting another night without you. Too many already. Some nights just couldn't sleep at all. Then I…" 

Jim stiffened as his shirt was spread wide open for Blair gain greater access. Words were becoming a real trial now. "What?" 

"Laid in bed thinking about you and…" 

"And?" Wanting, needing to hear the words. 

"Touching myself, imagining you there with me." The mouth then sank onto his other nipple, sucking hard and Jim groaned, arching up into that touch. He wanted desperately to tell Blair of the nights he'd spent doing exactly the same thing - but the press of Blair on his body, the things his mouth was doing were too much. 

He grabbed Blair, tore the jacket off and dragged him up for another searing kiss. Blair began to move on him, rubbing their cocks together and Jim knew that if he didn't do something soon, they'd make a mess of their good clothes. Quickly, he pulled Blair's shirt from his trousers and Blair lifted up long enough for Jim to get it over his head. Then he got his hands between them, feeling the rock hardness of Blair's cock between his fingers. He fumbled with belt buckle and zipper and boxers until finally, he had a hard needy shaft in his hands. 

Blair thrust and bit Jim's neck at the same time. "Oh, god, Jim!" 

"Chief," Jim grunted. "Clothes. Off. Now!" 

And Blair was suddenly stripping until he was naked, then stripping Jim and touching him and pulling him close and there was nothing soft or gentle about any of it and it all drove Jim wild. 

He ended up sitting back on the couch, Blair straddling him as their cocks brushed together, their lips locked, blood pounded, rushing forward, grinding them against each other. Jim's hands snatched Blair's arse as Blair, sweaty and reeking pheremones, gripped their cocks and rocked against Jim. 

"Please, Jim," Blair groaned. 

"Too close, baby," Jim didn't even stop to wonder that he knew exactly what Blair was asking for. He was too busy sucking on the pierced nipple, biting hard and harsh, thrusting against Blair, violently, almost brutally. With a fierce cry, he grabbed Blair to him and felt his balls clench, his blood rise and then he was coming and Blair was coming and they were gasping and thrusting until they had nothing left and everything left and they fell together in a heaving, mindless heap of flesh and bone and muscle and liquid love. 

Gradually getting his breathing to steady, Jim pulled Blair down on the couch alongside him, trapped against the back. It was a little cramped - but he was going to complain? He took one soft kiss after another, each a gift that melted him completely. 

Blair snuggled in and Jim allowed himself another deep lungful of his favourite scent. 

"You're sniffing me again." He could hear the smile in Blair's voice. 

"Are you telling me you don't like it?" 

"Actually, that's not the problem. It never has been." 

"Then what is?" Jim did it again and felt Blair's laughter against him. 

"Hey, man, you just have no idea how it turns me on when you do that." 

Jim grinned with a weird delight. "And that's a problem because…" 

Now Blair laughed, "God, I love you, Jim. I really do. I mean, if I didn't love you, I would just have to, you know?" 

"No, but I'll believe you." Blair chuckled a little longer and then settled quietly, leaving Jim to bury his face in the curls he loved so much. "I love you, Blair." 

"I know, Jim. I think that's why." 

"Now you really aren't making sense - but some weird part of me seems to think you should. More information." 

"Why you were worried about us making love again." 

"I wasn't worried, exactly, I just…" Jim met those blue eyes, kind of shrugged, and said, "Maybe I was. You did say slowly." 

"Call that _slow_?" 

"Well, not the slowest I've ever done it." Jim replied, trying hard to stop himself from smirking. "I suppose I _could_ go slower - if you wanted." 

But Blair was grinning, "The dating, Jim, not the sex. The sex was delicious." And to back up his words, he snuggled in closer, brushing sensitive parts of himself over sensitive parts of Jim, forcing Jim to respond in kind. 

Yeah, it had been way too long. But worth the wait? Dumb question. Really, really dumb. 

Jim let his tongue reach out and touch a cool earlobe, "Chief?" 

"Uh huh?" 

"I want you to think about something. Take your time. Just think about it." 

"What?" 

"Would you please move in with me?" 

"Okay." 

Jim could have played dumb and asked for a repeat of this astonishing answer - but who would believe a sentinel couldn't hear one word whispered fervently all of three inches from his own hypersensitive ear? "Blair! I said, think about it, okay?" 

"I have and I will." Blair's voice was firm and full of many things Jim had never heard before - but had longed for. 

"You'll what?" 

"Move into the loft with you." 

Jim moved back to better see the look on Blair's face - but he knew he, himself was grinning like a prize idiot. "When?" 

"How about Sunday?" 

"Not tomorrow?" 

"Have to work." 

"That's right." But Jim didn't mind. Not when Blair looked at him like that, his smile a beacon in the darkness, his eyes something Jim could happily lose himself in and not ever go looking for a way out. "Okay, Sunday." And sealed it with another kiss. 

After a moment, he spoke again, "There's just one thing." 

"What?" 

"I'm thinking about another move we could do right now that would take much less effort." 

"What's that?" 

"Into the bedroom? I'm gonna fall off this thing in a minute." 

His reward - if it could be called that - was to have Blair clamber over the top of him in his haste to get to the bedroom, not minding which parts of his sentinel he trod upon in the process. A little bruised and battered, Jim got up and followed him - to find the bed full of a terribly warm and inviting anthropologist - and instantly forgot all about his trials and tribulations. 

Languidly, he stretched out on top of Blair, allowing his tongue to discover all sorts of nice things along that neck, things he hadn't tasted in so long. "You are beautiful, Blair. I don't know why it took me so long to get around to telling you. I always thought it. Even before I fell in love with you. I saw the way the girls looked at you - so I looked myself and even then, I thought, hey, he really is beautiful." 

Blair half-laughed, "I'm glad you, the shining Adonis, thinks so. I'd hate for people to see us together and pity you the poor little runt you got stuck with." 

Jim was on a journey of rediscovery, his hands and tongue lightly caressing over Blair's torso, remembering, wanting and needing all over again. "Only a complete idiot would think something like that \- and I'd smack him in the face for it and cop the disciplinary action." 

"You'd do that for me?" 

"Blair," Jim paused, looking up to gaze steadily into those open trusting eyes. "I'd do anything for you." 

Blair smiled, "Okay, but no thumping, right?" 

"Unless absolutely necessary." 

"Life or death only, Jim, promise me." 

"Promise." 

Jim returned his attention to the nipple he loved so much, threaded with silver. A single lick of his tongue brought it up hard and ripe for nibbling. He continued south, dipping in to taste the navel as his hands drifted lower, fingering the soft hair he found. Blair shifted his legs to give Jim greater access. With an almost careless gesture, Jim let his hand drift over the growing shaft, across the balls and down further until he found the small pucker. He pressed a fingertip against it, felt it give willingly to the pressure while Blair spread his legs further apart. His stomach twisting with barely contained excitement, Jim exerted a little more pressure and the finger slipped inside the tight opening. His finger was unlubricated so Jim proceded carefully, feeling slowly and gently but knowing all the while every gasp Blair made was a silent cry for more. He glanced up to find Blair pressing a tube into his hand. Quickly he spread the gel over his fingers and returned to the warm place between Blair's legs. He pushed in two fingers this time and Blair moaned loud. 

Deliberately and firmly, Jim fucked Blair with his fingers, taking joy from watching the flittering sensations ripple over Blair's skin, how his hips pressed down, wanting more. A smile on his face now, Jim brushed over the prostate. Blair shivered under his touch. Jim withdrew his fingers, almost laughing with delight - and Blair noticed. With a smile of his own, he sprang, pushing Jim down onto the bed and beginning his own journey. Jim was powerless to stop him as his body was assulted by a hot seeking tongue, demanding hands, lips that could seduce a monk and eyes blazing a passion Jim knew was reflected in his own. And when that mouth engulfed him he almost forgot what day it was, where he was - even his name. Blair pushed a finger into him and he lurched up off the bed. His hands locked into yielding curls and he knew he was almost whimpering. Nobody else had ever had this effect on him- and he loved it. Loved the feeling, loved the closeness, the giving. Loved the man. 

Blair brought him to the edge twice then backed off, kneeling between Jim's legs for a moment, his hands caressing inner thighs. For a long moment, he simply watched Jim and Jim was prepared to wait. 

Then, his voice low and husky with desire, Blair murmured, "Do something for me, Jim?" 

"Anything." 

"Fuck me?" 

Jim watched Blair through a haze of want. "Yes." 

Blair smiled, his hands still stroking softly, deliberately teasing. "Do something else for me?" 

"Sure. What?" 

"Marry me." 

Jim nearly fell off the bed. His head jerked up so fast he gave himself whiplash. "What?" 

Blair was smiling that slightly afraid and slightly vulnerable smile Jim loved so much. He reached out and ran his hands along Jim's stomach, his voice suitably soft and subdued. "Will you marry me?" 

"But…" Jim could hardly form a sentence he was so shocked. "But… I thought you didn't want…" 

The blue gaze grew cloudy, "You didn't answer." 

Jim sat up and faced Blair, taking a hand and holding it between his own. "I want you to listen to me very carefully." 

Blair's eyes were grave and serious. "Okay." 

Swallowing, Jim tried to slow his pounding heart, but failed completely. "We've come a long way and we're doing great, right?" 

"Yes." 

"And on Sunday, you're moving back into the loft, right?" 

"Yes." 

"Well… what happened to you wanting to keep that door open? So you could keep some independence?" 

For a second, there was no reaction. Then the smallest, slowest smile spread across Blair's face. "What independence?" 

Jim couldn't form any response beyond a puzzled frown so Blair continued. "Love, do you think I haven't thought long and hard about this? I have, every day for the last two months, wondering where we were going with this, with us. I know you wanted a life-long commitment from me -" 

"But…" 

"But when you saw how scared I was, you did the opposite and gave me my freedom. So I had this freedom and I had you both at the same time and you know what? Freedom is overrated. You, on the other hand, are not." 

"I don't believe that." 

"Well, you should." Blair paused and brushed hair away from his face. "You have no idea how powerful a gift you gave me setting me free. Since then, every single day you have so proved to me that you meant it. Even your determination to keep out of my bed until you thought we were ready was a really big message." 

"But…" 

"Please, love, let me finish. I told you that I was afraid that if you loved me, I'd never be able to leave you." Blair paused again, his eyes lifting and holding Jim's gaze steadily, unafraid, "What I didn't see then was that, if you loved me - I wouldn't ever want to leave you." 

When he didn't continue, Jim spoke, "That still sounds like a prison to me." 

Blair shrugged and smiled, "No, Jim, it's not a prison at all. Quite the opposite. Love - love the way we have it, can never be a prison. It's taken me two months to see that even though it's been in front of me every day. I know I'm slow on this relationship learning curve, but I'm not that blind." 

Still, Jim wasn't convinced - and his frown showed it. Blair sighed and moved closer, pushing Jim back onto the bed and lying on top of him. "Don't you see, Jim," Blair whispered. "with you, I have all the freedom I need. I'm sick of pretending that I can leave you any day. Sick of pretending that I'm independent of you. I'm not. I need you, plain and simple. I need you in my life, every single day because without you, I'm in a real prison. I'm not me. I'm some homeless creature looking for somewhere to put down, to land for a few years before taking off again to look for the one thing I really want." 

"God, Blair!" Jim brushed a kiss of his forehead. "I was just scared that you were boxing yourself in, that you were asking because you thought that's all I wanted." 

"Jim," Blair said firmly, "I know this is going to come as a surprise, but I don't do everything simply because you want me to. Believe me, I want this. I want you. For the rest of my life. So, will you marry me?" 

"Are you really sure you want this?" Jim voiced, breathless. 

"Yes. Are you?" 

Jim nodded. "I was all along." 

"Really? All that time you knew?" 

With a shrug, Jim hid a smile, "Sure - in between the parts when I didn't." 

"Then… is that a yes?" 

"Yes, it is," Jim replied in an instant, all his doubts gone. 

"Yes?" Blair's eyes widened, a flash of delighted disbelief. "Really, man?" 

"Really," Jim smiled, falling in love all over again. "I never thought you'd ask. But…" 

"Oh," Blair waved a hand in dismissal, grabbing Jim for a fierce kiss. "We'll work out the technicalities later. I just wanted to ask, you know? And to get an answer." 

"I love you." 

"You'd better - or I'll really be making an ass of myself when I stand before the altar." 

"Baby," Jim grinned, "you couldn't make an ass of yourself if you tried. Believe me, it takes one to know one - and you just don't qualify, okay?" 

"Whatever you say, big guy." Blair nestled in close, letting his body tell a story of its own. "Now I know you'll respect me in the morning \- I have to remind you that you made me another promise a few minutes ago." 

"Oh?" Jim murmured, feigning innocence. "Which one was that?" 

In reply, Blair nipped his shoulder, "You promised to fuck me." 

Jim groaned and kissed his love again, deeply and hungrily and then the heat began to grow again and Jim did nothing to stop it. The momentum gathered itself, absorbing them, tumbling them and making them roll before the gale which swept them together. In the sweaty urgency of their lovemaking, Jim poured all of himself into giving and his reward was the love Blair gave back, the noises of pleasure, the twisting and turning in ecstacy, the bundle of sheer delight Blair became in Jim's arms. This time, he didn't take his guide. Instead, Blair gave himself to Jim as he had in the beginning. Blair sat astride him, impaling himself so they could hold each other, taking Jim deep into himself, bringing them closer, their bodies, hearts and minds. Jim touched him, kissed him, reveled in his unique beauty, made him his own, marking him for life, leaving small bites on chest and neck, receiving the same in kind, knowing he was equally marked, as much on the inside as out. Each little pain was a gust to the tempest, fuel to the furnace. A roaring blaze of determination and discovery, of love and survival. Buried inside Blair's sweetness, Jim moved on a flowing river of desire and passion, held Blair in his arms and sped along with him to the wonderful, explosive, knowing end. Together, they floated down in a haze of hard-earned peace, remembering all the joy that was before them, not the pain they'd chosen to leave behind. 

And it was so beautiful, so sweet and so damned right, he found tears falling down his face as he held Blair afterwards, found Blair's tears answer his own and he knew, at last, they'd come home. 

* * *

_Epilogue_  
 _Five months later._

"Bloody hell!" 

Blair glanced up from the kitchen bench to find Jim struggling through the loft door with far too many shopping bags in his arms. He left his cooking and hurried over to help. "What's wrong?" 

"I think I've broken something. The salad dressing. I can feel something gooey seeping down my trousers." 

Blair snickered and took a couple of bags, "Is that a salad dressing in your shopping bag - or are you just _really_ glad to see me?" 

Jim's response was a snatched kiss that felt a little like a bite. Still giggling, Blair took the bags into the kitchen, opening them up at random to see what was inside. "What did you get?" 

"Well, just about everything. Let's face it, we didn't do much shopping the week before we left and what we picked up on the way back from the airport won't be enough to feed the mice let alone Simon." 

"I did make a start," Blair pulled out the offending bottle of salad dressing and held it up for Jim to see. "Not broken, but the lid's come loose." 

"Throw it. Don't know who loosened it or why." 

"Doesn't matter, I'll make my own." 

Jim nodded and proceeded to pack the groceries away, taking every opportunity he could to snatch a kiss any time Blair got within three feet of him - and in that kitchen, that amounted to quite a number. In the end, Blair had to put his foot down. "Look, big guy, if you don't let me get on with this, we'll still be necking when Simon gets here. Now you need to go shower and change." 

"Are you kicking me out of my own kitchen?" 

"Too damned right, I am. Now go, shoo." 

"So much for being on holiday, eh?" Jim put on his best hang-dog expression and wandered away, shoulders slumped. The act changed the moment he reached the bathroom. "Oh, hell!" 

"What?" 

"Where did this sand come from, Sandburg?" 

"What sand?" 

"This sand on the bathroom floor. I only mopped it this morning." 

"Well, I unpacked the wash bags so I guess it must have come from there." 

"God, why is it when you spend a few days anywhere near a beach, you bring half of it back with you?" Jim didn't wait for an answer. He just went in and shut the door. His mumbled complaints were drowned out a moment later by the shower spray. 

Blair worked furiously in the kitchen, putting the rest of the shopping away, chopping, slicing and shredding and washing up as he went. This was their first real night home and he wanted to make it special. Wanted to have a clear zone for some fun activities after Simon went home. Last night they'd been too tired, got in too late to do more than dump bags, shower and get into bed. Today had been spent sleeping in, cleaning the loft, finding places for the few new artefacts Blair had picked up, and then it was time to shop and cook. Quick day, busy night. 

He managed to pause long enough to stick a new CD in the player but by then Jim was out of the shower and upstairs getting dressed. "God, I haven't got anything clean to wear! I thought we did laundry before we went away!" 

"We did. You're just not looking hard enough." Blair called back. "And if you think I'm coming up there to show you where your clean clothes are then you've obviously got the wrong gender partner." 

He was rewarded with a face grinning over the balcony at him, "Oh, I don't think so." 

"Get dressed! Simon will be here any minute and you haven't set the table yet." 

"Jesus, one order after another. Hen-pecked, that's what I am." Jim continued to mumble and moan again as he got dressed, dried his hair and came downstairs. "I warn you, Chief, the day you start nagging me to put out the trash, I'm going to buy a pipe and retire into my armchair." 

Blair was having a lot of trouble not laughing at this constant stream of mock complaints - but if Jim thought for one minute he was even remotely funny, Blair would never hear the end of it. 

Like a good lad, Jim set about laying the table with the kind of precision only an ex-military man can accomplish. He'd just got the wine un-corked when there was a knock at the door. Jim threw a glance at Blair and went to open it. Blair had the steak and shrimp on by then and could only throw a quick hello over his shoulder as Simon came in. 

"Mmn, something smells good." 

"Thanks. You do like garlic, don't you?" 

"If that's what I smell, then yes, I do. Well, you both look well. How was the holiday?" 

"Great. Beer?" Jim asked, steering Simon out of Blair's way and towards the dining table. 

"Thanks." 

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" 

"Jim, you're still officially on holiday - at least until 0800 tomorrow, so you'll just have to wait and find out." 

"Take your seats," Blair called, serving up as he spoke. The two men sat on opposite sides of the table as Blair brought plates across, placing one in front of each of them. He went back to get his own and sat at the end of the table. Jim had poured wine by then and raised his glass in a toast. 

"To friendship." Blair smiled and Simon nodded. Then they got stuck into their meal. 

After the first couple of mouthfuls, Simon, speaking around his food, raised his eyebrows at Blair. "Sandburg, this is really good! I mean, I know you can cook, but this is really good!" 

Blair grinned and raised his glass, "Actually, Captain," he emphasised the word, "I think that since I cooked you dinner, the protocol is that you call me by my first name. I think there's a statute to that effect somewhere." 

"Okay, okay - Blair." Simon tucked into his food again and for a while, the conversation drifted around all sorts of things from the weather while they'd been gone, to how the Jags had fared without their two most important supporters. It was amazing how much could happen in two weeks. 

Blair had been sipping on beer for most of the afternoon and now the wine was starting to make him feel very comfortable. As they finished their meal, he sat back and let the evening wash over him. Contentment had become a thing he was getting used to now - but that didn't mean he allowed himself to not appreciate it every time it came along. 

"So," Simon took another swallow of his wine. "You haven't said much about your holiday. Was Hawaii as good as I've heard?" 

"Better." Jim replied, not looking at Blair - and for some vague reason he couldn't pinpoint for a moment, Blair found that a trifling unsettling. "Only it wasn't just a holiday." 

Blair started, "Jim?" 

"What?" Now he did turn, but his handsome face was swept of all expression and Blair didn't know quite what to say. 

"I… er…" 

"No, Chief. There'll be hell to pay otherwise." 

"But…" 

"Look, just trust me on this will you?" 

"What do you mean, there'll be hell to pay?" 

"Please, trust me?" 

And Blair said nothing else - largely because Simon chose that moment to interrupt. "Look, what's going on here? I hate listening to arguments I don't understand." 

Jim kept his gaze on Blair a moment longer, then turned back to Simon and poured out some more wine. "Hawaii was great. Lots of fabulous beaches, lots of sun. We did a few hikes and to be honest, we weren't sure we were ever going to come back." 

Slightly mollified, Simon nodded - but Blair knew the satisfaction wouldn't last long if Jim had his way. Belatedly, he tried once more, "Jim, please, you don't…" 

"Blair, I mean this in the best possible way - but will you please be quiet. I know what I'm doing. Trust me." 

"Okay." Blair found himself saying - but that didn't mean his stomach liked the idea. He went to get up and clear the plates away ready for desert - but Jim clamped his hand down on Blair's and forced him to stay. 

Simon, by now, had worked out that there was something being kept from him - well, he was a police captain so obviously he wasn't that thick. "Look, are you going to tell me what's going on?" 

Again, Jim kept his gaze on Blair, hard for a moment, until a softness appeared around his eyes, which gradually turned into the kind of smile that would feed Blair for a week. God, where did the man get a smile like that without a licence? 

"It was a great holiday," Jim repeated, turning back to Simon but not letting Blair's hand go. "But like I said, it wasn't just a holiday." 

"Okay, I got that part. So did you do some private work while you were there?" 

"Private work?" A small laugh escaped Jim then and his grip on Blair's hand relaxed a little. "Never heard it called that before. No -" 

Blair held his breath, terrified and excited both at the same time. 

"No," Jim went on, blindly determined, straight into that tunnel with the train coming down it. "Blair and I got married." 

Simon froze for a second, then burst out laughing, "Oh, sure, very funny!" 

Jim just shook his head, keeping his voice level and serious. "Blair and I got married half way up a mountain overlooking a beautiful bay with the sun shining down on us and a few clouds blustering away in the east. Exactly twelve days ago. Strictly speaking, until 0800 tomorrow, we're still on our honeymoon." 

But Simon really wasn't buying it. He was shaking his head instead, "You're right, Sandburg, Jim does have a weird sense of humour." 

Blair tried, but failed, "Simon, really…" 

And Jim took over. He grabbed Blair's left hand and slapped it on the table in front of Simon, displaying the ring on his fourth finger, a complex twist of silver and gold, a symbol of everything they'd been though to get that far. Then Jim placed his own hand next to it, showing his matching ring. 

Simon stared at the hands, back at Jim, the rings - then at Blair. Blair knew in that moment, that it was the expression on his own face that made Simon believe. 

"Shit!" 

Jim let Blair's hand go and sat back, waiting. Silence reigned, intense, horrible silence and Blair felt obligated to fill it. 

"Simon, like man, we know it's a shock and everything but it was just, you know, the thing and we didn't really plan to, you know, man, like and…" He knew he was babbling. Jim knew it - and the surprising thing was, even Simon noticed. 

"Sandburg, please be quiet." 

"But…" 

Now both of them turned. "Quiet!" 

Blair shut up. He waited a moment, then stood, collected the plates and took them into the kitchen. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed two men sitting across the table from each other, both with arms folded, staring each other down. Hell, who wanted to get in the middle of that? So Blair collected the bowls of desert from the fridge, puttered around in the kitchen as long as he thought he could get away with it, then headed back to the table. He put the bowls down, resumed his seat and waited. 

And waited. 

Until Simon broke the moment. "Shit, I don't believe this!" He got up from the table and walked straight out onto the balcony. He pulled out a cigar and lit up, knowing full well Jim hated smoking even out there. Blair stole a look at Jim to find him watching his friend. The blue eyes were wary but determined, an expression Blair had learned to know and love over the last year. 

Keeping his voice low, Blair said, "Jim, are you sure this was such a good idea? You never said anything…" 

Jim only nodded. "Had to be done some time. Sorry, love." 

Blair sighed. Of course, there was no use making an issue of it. It was too late now. It was just ironic that Jim had finally decided to do something Blair was no longer worried about. All the same, sitting there, watching his partner, he couldn't help feeling a little warm inside. He knew Jim hadn't done it entirely for him - but he had done it for them. Perhaps in a strange way, Jim was reaching out for a bit of freedom for both of them. 

Out on the balcony, Simon abruptly stubbed out his cigar and turned to come back inside - but he didn't sit at the table. He just stood there and stared at them, shaking his head. "When?" 

"When what?" 

"When did all this happen between you?" 

Jim folded his hands together on the table and kept his gaze on his friend. Blair could see how difficult this was for him but he could do nothing to help. "I suppose it began something close on a year ago." 

"Shit, Jim, I was about to congratulate you two on patching up whatever differences you'd had earlier this year. Was that part of it?" 

"Yes. A big part of it. We had… a few problems." 

"Please tell me it had something to do with suddenly finding out you were gay." 

"A little," Jim shrugged. "But the label doesn't really fit. I'm not interested in men in general. Only in Blair." 

At that, Simon shifted his gaze to Blair and frowned deeper. Blair had to head the posse off at the pass - because the alternative was too terrible to contemplate. 

"Simon, Jim and I sort of just got together. Like it was supposed to happen." 

"You mean, Sentinel/Guide stuff?" 

"Maybe, we don't really have any research to go on." 

"We fell in love, Simon," Jim added, his voice low with warning. 

It wasn't much, but it was enough for the other man. "Shit, Jim, you're sitting there telling me that after a lifetime of chasing and hell, even marrying women, you're now in a happy and stable - permanent relationship with a… a… man?" 

"Yes, Simon, that's exactly what I'm telling you." 

Simon let out a big breath of air and came back to the table. He sank into his chair and gazed at his desert like it had come all the way from Mars. "Okay, I'm shocked. I'm not too proud to admit it. I'm shocked - and disappointed." 

Before Jim could react to this, Blair placed a cautioning hand over Jim's and leaned forward, "Why disappointed, Simon?" 

Simon's gaze drifted to where their hands were joined, but there were no further expostulations. Just another sigh, "Because I suppose I thought I was your friend and this is a hell of a way to find out. So long after the fact. Because I guess if you were having problems, I assumed you might feel comfortable enough to share those problems with a friend. That, if possible, you might even want to have a friend there, at the wedding. So shit, Blair, yes I am disappointed and hurt so forgive me, alright?" He looked up then, his frown deepening. "This kind of thing is a big step, you know? Really major. I thought…" 

"I'm sorry," Jim replied, softly but with meaning. "I am, Simon. But your exclusion wasn't deliberate. If it makes you feel any better, you're the first to know. We haven't even told Blair's mother yet - or my father." 

It appeared that that did make Simon feel better - if only a little. "So, why shut me out at all?" 

"Because," Jim took in a breath, glanced at Blair and turned his hand over until they were actually linked properly, "that was part of the problem. Telling you. Telling anyone. Blair and I were together nearly three months the first time before the pressure split us up. It took us almost three months to get back together, during which Blair had moved out and I was a complete misery. By then it was too late to tell you because there wasn't anything to tell you about. And then, when we started to put it all back together, it was all too fragile to talk about. I mean, for a long time, we really didn't know if it was going to work." 

"But it's been what, five months since Blair moved back in? I assume that meant everything was good, right?" 

"Great." 

"So why not tell me then? Why no invitation to the party?" 

"I think that was my fault, Simon," Blair murmured, his eyes on Jim. Slowly Jim nodded and Blair continued. "I'm not sure but I don't think Jim really thought it was real until I said I do, did you?" 

Jim just smiled, "But you did." 

"Yeah, I did." And Blair couldn't help himself; he leaned over and gave Jim a brief kiss. Instantly he blushed and glanced an apology at Simon. "Sorry, Captain, I didn't mean to…" 

"Right!" Simon thumped the table with one hand, pointed in the air with his extinguished cigar. "Let's get one thing absolutely straight right here and now. Yes, I'm shocked and disappointed - but I figure we've covered the disappointment part well enough. But as to being shocked? I've known Jim for years and never once thought he was interested in men - but if he was only ever interested in you, then hell, I had nothing to go on, did I? He just had to wait for you to come along and then that was it. So I'm surprised and shocked you see? No warning. Unpredictable behaviour. But that's the kind of shock I'm talking about. Not the kind of yuck, Jim's married a guy, kind of shocked. Now, I won't put up with you two holding hands at the station or passing on little love notes and if I find one single unprofessional word come out of either of you during work hours, I swear I'll drum you out of my department so fast you'll have scorch marks on your feet. But what I simply will not tolerate is you two pretending that you're not in love while you're around me! Have we got that clear!" 

Blair just sat there with his mouth open - but Jim burst out laughing. He pulled Blair closer until Blair had to get out of his seat so Jim could put his arms around him. Still Jim laughed until he looked up at Blair's face. "I told you to trust me, Chief." 

Blair simply looked to Simon for help. "Captain? Could I put in a request for a new partner? This one's far too clever for his own good." 

"Nope, you had fair warning - and you've only got yourself to blame since you went and married him. Now, what's in this desert? I hope it's low fat. I'm trying to drop a few pounds." 

Jim let Blair go back to his seat and they stayed quiet while they finished off the desert. Then Jim cleared up, put on coffee while Blair changed the CD and joined Simon out on the balcony where he was busily finishing his cigar. The big man was standing there, admiring the night, his hand on the railing when Blair stopped at his side. 

"You know he's only letting you get away with it because he knows he hurt your feelings." 

"Of course." Simon grunted with satisfaction and tossed him a glance. "And I intend to make him pay - as he well knows. But I won't push it. I figure the next couple of card nights we have here, I'll be entitled to a cigar at each one. Any more and he might toss me over the railing and be done with it." 

"But he would send flowers to the funeral." 

"Of course." 

Blair turned and gazed out over the city and wished, not for the first time, that the lights didn't obscure the stars quite so well. "It really wasn't deliberate. But things were bad for so long, you know, that just dealing with each other was hard enough. You don't know… how hard it was for him to do that tonight." 

"So it wasn't your idea?" 

"No. That's why we were arguing. I was trying to stop him." 

"So why did he do it?" 

Blair shrugged, "For me, I think. He wanted me to know he wasn't ashamed of me." 

At that Simon frowned, "Why would he be?" 

That made Blair laugh a little and he turned back to face the man, "Because it is strange and unusual and odd for Jim to suddenly make a life change like that." 

"And for you. I mean, I assume this was your first relationship with a man, too?" 

"Yeah." 

"So maybe it is a Guide/Sentinel thing. If only a little." 

"Maybe. I doubt we'll ever know." Simon just puffed his cigar so Blair continued. "There's one other thing." 

"What?" 

"I think you'll have to keep this to yourself for a while. Tonight was a friendship thing, you know - not a boss thing. We haven't discussed it recently, but I don't think Jim is going to be making any big announcements down at the station for a while. Maybe never. You know what cops are like on same sex relationships." 

"Okay." 

"Okay what?" Jim had joined them and immediately came up behind Blair and wrapped his arms around his waist. Blair leaned back, placed his hands over Jim's and drew in the kind of warmth he'd never felt anywhere else. He'd stopped wondering what it was about Jim that made him feel that way. All he cared about was that they were in love and for his money, that was all that really mattered. Love had torn them apart, but best of all, love had brought them back together. 

"Just telling Simon that he has to keep the secret for a while." 

"Oh, right. Sorry, Simon. I might tell Joel and Rafe in a little while. I don't know. See how it goes." 

"No problem. I understand. I just don't envy you." 

"What?" 

"Telling your father." 

"Ah, well," Jim held Blair a little more closely, giving Blair no opportunity to glance at his expression. "That'll take a little preparation and a lot of patience. I'm not expecting a good response, going by his previous reactions to what he called my 'aberrant' behaviour. Still, I have to tell him some time." 

" _We_ have to tell him," Blair corrected. 

"Well," Jim murmured, "I was kind of hoping I could tell my father - then you could tell your mother." 

"Hey, Jim," Blair rose to the bait before he could stop himself. "That is so not fair. Naomi's not that bad!" 

Simon chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about it, kid. She'll probably just tell you it's cosmic karma influenced by Jupiter and Saturn and that the universe is singing joy for you." 

"My point exactly," Jim laughed. 

Finishing off his cigar, Simon turned and faced them both, "Look, my opinion, for what it's worth, is that you should just let them see how happy you are together. I mean, it's pretty obvious. I didn't offer my congratulations before so I do so now. And Jim, I'm glad you've found someone. Really I am, even if I did moan about being left out before. Blair, I am surprised in one way that it was you he found - but in another way, I find it not surprising at all." 

"Thank you, I think." 

"It was meant as a compliment, Chief," Jim whispered so Simon could hear. "Take it and run. Doesn't happen often." 

"Okay, thank you." 

"You're welcome." Simon paused and nodded. "Actually, it's a good thing you did tell me when you did." 

"Why?" 

"Well, it would have been a bit awkward when you came in to me tomorrow with all those forms for my signature." 

"What forms?" 

"To put Blair on your insurance as your domestic partner - or hadn't you thought of that?" 

Jim froze - then laughed. "Actually, I'd forgotten all about it. Hey, Chief, want to be my domestic partner?" 

"I don't know. Does it mean I'll have to clean the bathroom with my toothbrush?" 

"Might do." 

"Then I'll take it under advisement. Simon, what do you think?" 

Simon took in a huge breath and let it out with an attempt to stifle a laugh. "Hey, kid, it's a compliment. Take it and run." 

* * *

The alarm was like a trigger in Jim's head, loud and obnoxious and totally horrible. Worse still, it meant the honeymoon was really over. With a groan, he shut it off, rolled over and once again gathered his sleepy mate into his arms. Blair was warm and cuddly and blissfully docile; a kind of snapshot only to be viewed at this time of the day. 

Trying to stifle the sound, he still took in a deep breath of Blair-scent, as he had done every morning for the last five months. Despite several showers, Blair still had a vague lace of coconut and palm oil which instantly flashed Jim back over the last two weeks of their time together. 

Days spent walking along beaches, swimming, hiking up into the mountains. Being able to hold hands in public - simply walking down the street. Skinny-dipping in a lagoon late one night, making love in the water, Blair wrapping himself around Jim. Of another day, another hiking alone in the mountains, stripping off to cool themselves in a river pool. Blair had taken him that day, over bolders in the pool \- and again, that night, in their hotel bed. 

Their wedding night was something Jim would never forget. The ceremony high on the mountainside with the incredible view, the small intimate meal they'd brought with them. Then left alone, Jim had spread out a soft blanket for them and they'd watched the sun go down over the water. And then, wordlessly, they had made love, right there, in the open secluded spot they had made their own. As though neither had wanted the night to end, they had spent it wide awake, in each other's arms, resting and gazing at the stars or touching and kissing each other. When Jim finally entered Blair that night, he knew he was never going to find a more perfect moment in his entire life. Alone and utterly peaceful, they had risen and dressed at dawn, making their way down from the clouds of heaven and back into the semi-real world. 

As he had packed on their last day, Jim had promised himself that each year, he and Blair would go to some spot like this, where same-sex couples were not frowned upon, and simply enjoy a freedom they could never have anywhere else. Two short weeks out of every year just for them. 

It had been as though Hawaii had become their own private treasure island, where every day, they discovered as if for the first time, how much they loved each other. Oh, he wasn't so smitten with the romance of the thing that he didn't know there would be problems in the future. They still had their arguments and disagreements - but to be honest, Jim found them as much an enticing part of their life together as any other aspect. Blair stood up to him in a way nobody else had ever dared. When he knew he was right, Blair simply would not be shifted, no matter how Jim might try to get around him. At the same time, Jim found it hard to bottle things up now. Somewhere along the line, he'd learned to loosen the strings on his feelings, learned to release the tension instead of holding it inside. It had taken him a long time to realise that trust had a large bearing on things. 

No, everything wasn't going to be plain sailing - but that was pretty much the point. They were on a journey, he and Blair, and as long as they continued to take each step together, it kind of didn't matter how the ground lay under their feet. 

A great wave of satisfaction rolled over him and without thinking he took in another dizzying breath and Blair stirred in his arms. 

"Mmmn. Doing it 'gain." 

"I know, sorry, love. Can't help it." 

"S'okay. Told you I like it." Blair pressed a kiss to his chin. "S'just that, if you don't stop now and get out of bed, you're never getting to work this morning." 

"Oh? Is that a promise?" 

"A solemn vow. And just remember, after last night, Simon is going to know exactly why you're late." 

"Yeah." 

Blair shifted a little, "You sorry you told him?" 

"No. Just that I didn't really discuss it with you first." 

"Maybe you were afraid I'd talk you out of it." 

"Maybe," Jim pondered, "and maybe I just wanted somebody else to know how much I love you." 

With a short giggle, Blair murmured, "You mean, apart from the entire population of Hawaii? And anybody who happened to be flying over that mountain on our wedding night?" 

"Oh, Chief, it was way too dark for anybody to see us - but yeah, something like that." Jim reached up and smoothed down the hair he loved to touch. "You know, I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to the idea that we're actually married. I mean, that you wanted to make that vow." 

"Well, my love," Blair drifted his lips over Jim's cheek, his eyes still closed, "you just feel free to take as much time as you want getting used to it. Say, the rest of your life. I'm in no hurry. As long as you come to this bed every night, and wake me up by sniffing my hair every morning, I won't complain." 

"Oh? And nothing in between?" 

"Jim," Blair dropped his voice in mock severity, "if you don't get out of bed right now, I swear you'll never be able to look Simon in the eye again because I will tell him, in minute detail, everything you did to me to make you late for work." 

"Everything?" 

"Everything." 

Smiling and shaking his head, Jim took those luscious lips for one more brief kiss and hauled himself out of bed. It was a harsh reality that made him turn his back on something so wonderful, but he had to do it - or Simon would make him pay with more than just smoking a cigar on the balcony. So he stumbled down the stairs, turned the coffee on and headed into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, feeling the aches and pains of last night wash away. 

Simon hadn't stayed late, but Blair had found a few ways to keep him awake and aware that had lasted long into the night. As the hot water pounded on his skin, a few lingering images flashed across his mind, distracting him. But then he remembered he had to go back to work, so he finished off, got out of the shower and prepared to shave. The mirror was steamed up so he grabbed a towel and wiped it off. He was half soaped up when the voice came creeping to him. 

_Congratulations._

"Thanks. You've been awfully quiet for a while. What's up?" 

_Nothing. You seemed to be waiting for me to talk so I did._

"Oh, okay. That's fine then." 

_Why?_

"Just that you only seemed to come back to me when something was wrong." 

_No, I'm always here - it's just that you only listened to me when something was wrong. Now I hope you'll listen more often so we can work together to make sure nothing else goes wrong._

"So, does that mean you think I did good?" 

_A half-shaved smile greeted him. Yeah, Jimbo, you did good._

"Great. There's just one thing." 

_What's that?_

"Why do you call me Jimbo? I hate it." 

_Just answered your own question, then, haven't you?_

The door behind him opened and a sleepy-eyed Blair wandered in, pushing a long curl out of his eyes, looking hopelessly and innocently delectable. "Jim?" 

"Yes?" 

Blair headed for the shower, as Jim finished shaving. "Have you got the phone in here?" 

"No, why?" 

"Just wondered who you were talking to." 

Jim stared at his clean-shaven reflection and it simply stared back at him, inscruitable and silent. Then abruptly he grinned. "Nobody sweetheart. Nobody at all." 

"Oh, okay." Blair turned back, gave him a quick kiss and added, "Love you." 

"I love you, too." 

Blair got into the shower, pulling the curtain across. "And Jim?" 

"Yes, love?" 

"Next time you talk to him, tell him thanks and I love him too." 

~Finis


End file.
